


A thief for your heart

by Fiathe



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Firsts, Lost dreams, M/M, Pickpocket AU, Runaway boys, Setting: modern day Seoul, Thievery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-02-17 06:47:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2300315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fiathe/pseuds/Fiathe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jimin is a novice pickpocket in the streets of Hongdae. Yoongi is his target.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A thief for your heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jimin tries to steal a wallet

Jimin’s eyes scan the street and its passerbys. He’s leaning against a stone wall, cool against the thin cotton of his back, and it soothes him, not only against the humid weather but also against the possibility of getting thieved.

After all, he’s meant to be doing the stealing, not the other way around.

Jimin is a professional pickpocketer along the streets of Hongdae. Or so he tells himself.

The last time he had tried to make that claim, Taehyung had burst out laughing so hard that he had fallen off his seat and turned the shade of brick red. Jimin would have been worried about his health if it wasn’t for the fact Taehyung had been laughing at him.

_“What’s wrong with that,” Jimin had said rather mulishly as he watched Taehyung roll around the floor._

_“What’s wrong with that?” Taehyung had sat up and wiped away the tears at the corner of his eyes. “You? A professional pickpocketer?”_

_“Yeah,” Jimin had raised his chin high, unwilling to back down._

_“Jimin,” Taehyung had said between laughs. “You’ve never even stolen a wallet before. Jungkook can steal better than you can, and he’s seventeen!”_

Hmpf. Jeon stinking Jungkook. Just because he’s got a better sleight of hand than Jimin does.

Jimin grits his teeth and returns his gaze to the morning crowd. He’s going to steal a wallet today if it’s the last thing he does and make Taehyung bite his words.

Ah. There.

A male. Strolling along at such a casual pace that's he almost asking to be stolen from. Jimin takes a moment to profile him. He’s pretty good-looking, all soft pale skin and dyed red hair that goes unfairly well with his ripped jeans and jacket. Probably in his early twenties or late teens. He carries no bag, but his jean pockets bulge slightly. 

Right. That’s it. He’s going to be Jimin’s target.                                        

Jimin slips off his perch against the cold wall and fluidly integrates himself into the crowd. He angles himself like a fish in a stream until he’s diagonally a few meters away from the man. Up close Jimin can see the gold that glints at his lobes. They make Jimin bite his lower lips in hopes that there’s something equally shiny in his pocket.  

He takes a step backwards, letting the woman in a business suit move past with her clunky bag and large handphone in which she is speaking motor words a minute into. As she goes he swivels past her and another man with grey in his hair. Now he’s right behind his target.

Jimin does his best not to puff out his chest. If there’s any trump card he holds above Jungkook, it’s his ability to zero in on a target. He’s always had a talent for moving silently but smoothly, knowing how to hold and lock each of his muscles and control them so that he makes no unnecessary movements. Jungkook is good at it as well, but he’s always had a perchance for knocking into things at the critical moment. Namjoon tells him that it’s because maknae is still growing and getting used to his limbs, so Jimin please shut up and go practice your sleight of hand skills because you still suck at that.

But today is the day Jimin proves Namjoon wrong.

Jimin speeds up half a beat so that he is now less than a meter away from his target. His eyes are fixated on the left pocket. He’s certain it’s a wallet, small, square in shape. His target wears skinny jeans which is going to make slipping the wallet out slightly harder but Jimin can do it. Jimin can totally do it.

He’s got to do it quickly though, or else it’ll look like he’s groping someone else’s ass, and Jimin doesn’t want a rep for that. Though on second glance, this guy does have a pretty nice ass.

Nope, nope. Jimin is only after the wallet. Not some ass, no matter how nice it is.

Another half a step and Jimin is centimeters behind his target. His hand half slips out of his jacket pocket, just enough to be at the ready to slip and grab, but not enough to look suspicious.

And just as he’s about to go for it-

His target takes a left turn and breaks away from the main stream of the crowd, moving into the smaller streets that branch towards the cafes and restaurants.  

Dammit. Jimin twists his way free of the crowd and follows him. Now he’s got to start all over. He should have noted the way his target was looking up at the street signs. But it’s okay. It’s not over just yet. This street is slightly emptier and darker, the street lights more interspersed. It’ll be easier to catch up to him.

Jimin hurries his pace, side stepping a woman and her daughter, and there he is. His target looks like he’s stopping to pick up his phone.

“Hey Hoseok, I’ll be home a little late, s’that okay? Oh, you’re out with Seokjin? Cool.” His target has a low, smooth voice. Definitely accented. Daegu maybe? It’s a nice voice, Jimin thinks. He wonders what his name would sound like in this stranger’s mouth.

The thought makes heat race to his cheeks. Focus Jimin! he scolds himself and draws a quick one, two, three breaths.

“Mm okay, catch you then.”

His target has finished speaking and is slipping his phone back into the front pocket of his jeans. He’s brushed back his jacket in doing so and Jimin has a perfect view of his wallet. Yup. Definitely a wallet. And a nice fat one. It peeks just above the pocket lining and Jimin can so grab that and go.

His target is walking now, heading back for the main streets. Jimin slips into the shadows behind him and he knows that if he’s ever going to make his move, it’s now. His hand snakes out and is hovering right above the goods. He’s got it all planned out in his head. Bump into the target, flick aside the jacket with one hand, and grab the wallet and stuff it into his loose jacket pocket with the other. Apologize quickly, briefly, and then go. It’s perfect.

So Jimin goes for it. Pushes off his right foot heavily enough to bump into the guy and-

A hand snakes around Jimin’s wrist and before he knows it he’s being dragged into an alleyway and slammed against the wall.

Hot breath fans against his cheeks. “Thought you could steal from me huh kid,” someone hisses and Jimin opens his eyes to come face to face with his target. Except in like a complete role reversal.

His target’s got Jimin trapped between his body and a brick wall, and in the fading light of a Thursday evening in Hongdae, no one is going to bother them unless he screams. And there is no way Jimin is screaming. Not a chance. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Jimin says tightly, going for ignorant.

His target, or not so target, scoffs. “Don’t lie to me kid. You’ve been following me since the station. I could hear you stumbling the entire way. You stopped when I stopped and moved when I moved. You gonna tell me that’s a coincidence?

Jimin’s cheeks heat. His target heard him? And then led him on a merry chase? If Taehyung ever learns of this he’s never going to hear the end of it.

“So what do you have to say for yourself?” His target bends down to stare him straight in the eyes. His eyes are dark and seem to see right through him.  

“I’m…sorry…” Jimin says, feeling shame twist itself a straightjacket around his lungs.

The boy in front of him smirks, deep and full. Jimin wants nothing more than to wipe it right off his face.

His chuckle tickles Jimin’s nose. “I hope you’ve learnt your lesson,” he says and lets go of his grip on Jimin’s wrist. Jimin rubs at it and mutters underneath his breath.

“Don’t let me catch you stealing again. You can do so much better than that,” he says, all wise guy serious and Jimin makes a face that the stranger catches and laughs at.

“See you,” he says and strolls off, humming something under his breath.

Jimin just can’t let it go like that.

“I’m Jimin,” he yells after the stranger, making him halt and half turn. “What’s your name?”

The stranger smirks again. “Why would I tell you such a thing?”

“Because I need to know the name of the guy I’m going to get back at,” Jimin huffs, lunging forwards and swiping the phone in the stranger’s front pocket. He opens the contacts and quickly types in a number, much to the stranger’s protest. “There,” he says with much satisfaction as he presses the save button. He even bothers to take a quick selca so that his new target can match name to face. 

Target takes back the phone between two fingers with a look of disdain. “Now why would I want your number?” he says slowly, raising an eyebrow.

“You know my name and number now, so tell me yours,” Jimin demands, holding out a hand. “It’s only fair.”

His target looks at him for half a second like he's a complete nutter or something before spinning around and ignoring Jimin’s hand. “Nope. Can’t be bothered. Goodnight,” he says and starts walking away.

“Nooo!” Jimin whines and grabs him shoulder, tugging the red head back. “That’s not fair.”

“Ouch! My hair! Don’t pull at the jacket. It’s new!” His target hisses, turning around and swiping at Jimin’s hand to let him go. “Fine, my name is Yoongi. Min Yoongi. Got it? Now leave me alone.” Yoongi snorts and heads for home. Wait till he tells Hoseok and Seokjin over dinner what a crazy person he met today.

Jimin on the other hand pumps his fist, pleased at his success. He may have failed stealing something from Min Yoongi this time, but he’s going to do better. He's got his name. Now he’s going to steal something much greater next time.

His number. 

Jimin pauses. “But what if he doesn't call me?” he wonders aloud and then trips over nothing at the realization. He turns around and chases after Yoongi’s retreating back in the darkening roads of Hongdae.

“Hyuuuung, wait for me!” he cries. “Want to get dinner?”


	2. My heart, Your hold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jimin tries to steal a date and Yoongi steals much more

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This originally was just going to be a simple oneshot to test the BTS waters, but then I got asked on AFF where i've cross posted this, for a sequel. Rather than a sequel I felt like a continuation of the story was better, so here's a little more to the Pickpocket AU.

Yoongi bites back a sigh as he flops down into the open chair. His two companions exchange raised eyebrows but choose to say nothing. Hoseok instead pours a fresh glass of water and pushes it over. Yoongi drains it in one gulp and offers a grateful jerk of his head in thanks.

“So?” Seokjin inquires as he hands over the folded menu to Yoongi. Yoongi waves it off and simply flags down the closest waitress, rattling off a list of dishes and a drink.  The three of them come here so often that knowing what he wants is second nature.

Seokjin doesn’t let it go though. “You look tired,” he comments as Yoongi swipes back sweaty bangs and pours himself another glass.

Yoongi exhales harshly through gritted teeth. “I got hounded around by some brat all afternoon. Kept asking me for my number.”

Seokjin and Hoseok simultaneously snort.

Yoongi frowns. “Oi. It wasn’t funny. That kid has some endurance. Wouldn’t stop chasing me, even after I got on a bus.”

Hoseok coughs up the water he’s been drinking.

“Hoseok!” Yoongi growls and tosses his friend a handful of tissues. “Seriously.”

A lady with jet black hair tied back into an artful bun swings by with a bowl of beef and rice, laying it down with a side plate overflowing with kimchi.

Yoongi raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Isn’t this more than usual?”

The girl gives him a coy smile. “On the house,” she says and saunters off, apron strings swaying behind her.

Hoseok can’t help cracking up. “Look at you hyung, stealing hearts where ever you go.”

Yoongi glares at him for a good three seconds before his stomach decides food is more important that cursing Hoseok to an early untimely meeting with his nose and the front door of their apartment. But just as he shovels the first spoonful into his mouth, his phone buzzes loudly. A frown twitches on his face, but then it smoothens and Yoongi continues eating.

“Yoongi-” Seokjin starts, but Yoongi cuts him off with a look, takes out his phone and promptly switches it to silent mode. It however continues to vibrate violently every few seconds or so.

“Yoongi,” Seokjin says again, more firmly this time. “Is it that kid? It’s rude to be ignoring him like that.”

“You’re not the one with a hundred and fifty two ka-talk messages at the moment,” Yoongi says pointedly, then returns to his meal with vigor.

Hoseok’s mouth drops open. “A hundred and fifty two! Of what? Emoticons?”

Yoongi sighs and snatches up his phone. He keys in the pass pattern and offers his phone to Hoseok. Seokjin pops his head over Hoseok’s shoulder, curious.

**_Park Jiminnie  
Friday, September 19 th, 2014_ **

_9.20PM – So how about tomorrow?_

_9.20PM – Tomorrow noon?_

_9.20PM – ???_

_9.20PM – Hyung?_

_9.20PM – Hyung???_

_9.20PM – Hyung? Are you ignoring me?_

_9.21PM – Don’t ignore me. That’s mean. That’s sad. T.T_

_9.21PM – TT.TT_

_9.21PM – Park Jiminnie is crying TT.TT_

_9.21PM – Hyuuuuuuuung. Pleeeeeeaaaaaseeeee TT.TT_

Hoseok has to stifle another laugh. He lowers the phone to look at Yoongi’s dark expression as he finishes his kimchi off, prodding at the last dregs of sauce with his chopsticks. It just sets him off laughing again.

“He seems to really like you,” Seokjin comments in a neutral voice, fighting to keep the twitching of his lips and the smile off his face.

“Sure, whatever,” Yoongi says flatly as he contemplates ordering another bowl of kimchi. The waitress had seemed pretty eager to dish them out. “Believe what you want.”

“What’s he’s like?” Seokjin asks as another message pops up on the screen.

Yoongi’s shoulders slump. It’s karma. It must be. He’d been coming out of the Hongdae station when he had spotted him. A cute baby face and those baby lips. Too sweet, too innocent. A little lick and Yoongi wanted to wipe it right off his face. It was the corruptible kind that made Yoongi’s mouth dry and finger’s twitch. 

Urgh. It’s definitely karma.

His phone buzzes again as if in reminder.

“Just shut him up already would you,” Yoongi groans and buries his head in his arms. It’s dark and the material is thick wool, creating a comforting scratch against his cheeks. He’d like to bury himself in this and suffocate and die.

“Done,” Hoseok whistles and there’s a light tap as he puts down Yoongi’s phone next to his head.

“Done what?” Yoongi mumbles through the fabric.

“Your ka-talk problem.”

Yoongi pulls his head out of his arms for this. “Huh?”

Before Hoseok can clarify anything further, Yoongi’s phone buzzes. But this time it’s longer and patterened. Like when someone is trying to call him.

Yoongi’s hand shoots out to clumsily fumble for his phone, fingers grasping around the breadth of it and sliding across the screen.

“ _Yobsaeyo_ ,” Yoongi yawns into the phone, eyes half open. Hoseok isn’t looking when his eyes do fly wide open because he’s too busy deciding on drinks, but he does hear the sound of Yoongi choking and yelling, “Hoseok, what the fuck did you do?”

“Huh?” is all Hoseok can manage to say before Yoongi’s phone is shoved in his face. “Ow, hyung, my nose, please,” he says and pushes back the phone so that he can see the caller ID. There’s a ridiculously baby-faced guy staring back at him with tiny eyes and a blinding smile. Park Jimin, it says underneath the selca image. “Oh, is this the kid you were talking about?”

“Yes, this is that kid,” Yoongi hisses. “But that’s not the issue here. The issue is why is he calling me?”

There’s a tinny call from the phone.  _“Hyuuung, why aren’t you talking to me?  Noon at Sinchon right?”_

“And,” Yoongi says with a gleam in his eyes directed right at Hoseok, “Why is he under the impression I’m going out with him tomorrow.”

“Umm,” Hoseok hedges, averting his eyes, “Maybe because I replied on your ka-talk to him that you are?”

“And,” Yoongi says in the beginning of a growl and the narrowing of eyes, “Who said you could do that?” 

Hoseok offers him a half-hearted smile. “Well you said to shut him up so-“

“Hoseok…” Yoongi snarls and the hand on the table curls into the beginnings of a fist.

“Now, now,” Seokjin intervenes quickly, water to Yoongi’s flammable nature. “This Park Jimin sounds like quite a sweet guy. Why don’t you give him a chance? Just one date?”

“ _Yeah hyung! Just one date_.” The phone chirrups.

Yoongi groans. “Fine,” he says grudging, giving in and pulling the phone back to his ear. “Park Jimin, you got yourself one date. One o’clock, Sinchon station. Don’t be late.”

He ends the call before Jimin can say anything in response and lets the phone drop to the table.

“Urgh, urgh, urgh,” Yoongi moans and flags down the waitress to order another beer. “I am so blaming this on you two if it goes badly,” he says, pointing an accusatory finger at the two of them. “If I die of over-aegyo tomorrow I plan to come back and haunt you two for the rest of your lives, mark my words.”

“Sure thing,” Seokjin hums and hands over the bill to Yoongi. “So you won’t mind paying one last time as a final farewell right?”

Yoongi chucks the remainder of his beer over Seokjin’s head.

*

It’s twelve fifty and Jimin is already there waiting for him, all bright and chipper despite the afternoon sun that beats down on the cobbled streets. He’s dressed in a casual black sleeve and three quarter shorts with a snapback perched atop his head. He’s looks freaking cute and Yoongi wants to slam his head into the nearest brick wall. Karma.  

“Hey hyung!” Jimin chirps, spotting him somehow amongst the crowd and Yoongi can avoid this no longer.

“Hey kid,” he says, more out of courtesy than anything. “Right, so what do you want to do?”

“Wanna go watch a movie?” Jimin suggests.

Yoongi narrows his eyes. Test number one. “That depends,” he says with a promisingly growl to the end of his words. Jimin completely looks like the type to be into chickflicks and romance sob stories.

“The new Transformers film has been out for a few weeks. If we go now the cinema will be really empty and we can have it all to ourselves.”

Yoongi deflates. That’s not actually a bad plan of action. He hasn’t watched this one yet and a mish mash of giant robots, general city destruction and angst ridden mayhem doesn’t sound like it will put him to sleep. Plus, he hates crowded and chattering cinemas.

“Fine,” he says and Jimin grins in victory.

“Good!” He takes out two white slips from the back of his jean pockets. “Because I’ve already bought the tickets.”

“You-“ Yoongi chokes, eyes rounding with the kid’s audacity. “What would you have done if I didn’t like action movies? Or like, had already watched it?”

“But you haven’t. And you like action films.”

Yoongi stares at him like the world has gone crazy. And maybe it has and he’s the last sane survivor on this planet. Because how the hell does some little pickpocket know what he likes. He’s meant to be a thief for goodness sake, not a professional stalker. They don’t come hand in hand do they these days?

“Let’s go hyung or else we’ll be late,” Jimin says, breaking up Yoongi’s thoughts and he has no choice but to follow.

*

Everything is going according to plan. Jimin does a secret little fist pump and dance that Yoongi doesn’t see because he’s too busy picking out popcorn. He’s so glad Namjoon finally has useful information, and that Jungkook is there to decipher everything for him.

“You okay with salty? Or do you prefer sweet?”

Jimin snaps back to attention. “Sweet hyung,” he says instantly. Then thinks about it, and adds a cheesy “just like you,” to the end of it, shooting a little finger gun right at Yoongi’s heart.

Yoongi gives him a flat expression for two full seconds, then turns back to the man at the cashier and says stonily, “salty please.”

“No hyung!” Jimin rushes forwards. “Please don’t get salty. That was just a joke. Namjoon said it would work and-“

“Namjoon?” Yoongi blinks in surprise. “Kim Namjoon?” Jimin nods. “How the heck do you know Namjoon-“

Yoongi frowns and pauses. And before Jimin can say a word Yoongi nods to himself. “Of course. You must be one of the kids Namjoon picked up.”

Jimin freezes.

“Is that all sir?” the cashier man asks and Yoongi turns his attention away from Jimin.

“Sorry-“ Yoongi says and Jimin tunes out the rest of their exchange. Yoongi knows? Does he know? How could he-

“Brat.” Jimin feels something papery and hard land on his head. “Hurry up. The movie’s about to start and I hate missing the start of movies.”

Jimin’s hands fold around the popcorn box and only when he grips it, secures it in his hands, does Yoongi let go. Jimin takes it off his head, mumbling a quiet, “Hyung I said I don’t like salty popcorn.”

But Yoongi’s already at the doors, pushing them open and tapping his feet impatiently. “Hurry up,” he barks and Jimin gives a resigned sigh and follows.  He picks up one kernel as he walks and squints at it hard. Maybe he can train himself to like it. After all Yoongi did pay for the popcorn. Though he technically paid for the tickets. He pops it into his mouth and, oh. Jimin’s eyes widen. A small smile curves it way up his face.

“Hyung! Wait up!” he calls and hurries after Yoongi. “Here,” he says and holds out a handful to Yoongi. Yoongi makes a face but lets Jimin’s feed him some.

His response is to wrinkle his nose. “Too sweet,” he complains and plops down into their designated seat.

“Not as sweet as you hyung,” Jimin chimes and the groan he gets from Yoongi is so worth it. Maybe Namjoon was right after all. Cheesy lines are the way to the heart.

*

The movie ends later than Jimin expects and Yoongi declares himself hungry.

This gets Jimin flustered. He hadn’t thought this far out in terms of budget and he fumbles for his pocket.

Yoongi however seems to have already read his mind. “I’ll pay,” he says, pushing past Jimin so that he doesn’t have to see the distraught expression he’s making. “In exchange I get to pick.”

“But hyung-“

“I want kalbi,” Yoongi announces and there’s no way Jimin can afford that, so apparently that’s that.  

In the end they don’t get kalbi because they walk past some open air corner shop restaurant and the smell of beef grilling is far more tempting that the thought of phantom quality meat. Jimin’s stomach rumbles and before he even knows it Yoongi is dragging him in and proclaiming the kalbi place is too far away and Jimin will have to make do with this.

If by this he means the mountainous pile of beef laid before him, then Jimin can definitely make do with this. Yoongi swallows a chopstick-full of kimchi and lets out a satisfied sound. “So good,” he sighs and cracks open one eye, expecting a similar reaction from Jimin, and is disappointed when there is none. “What? Eat?”

“Hyung I-“

“Your food will get cold,” Yoongi says warningly. This conversation is for later.

“But I can’t repay you-“

Yoongi cuts him off. “I don’t want your money. I’d rather your company. So eat.”

And that’s apparently that.

*

Food isn’t all they get. Yoongi orders a heck load of drinks and laughs when Jimin splutters at the first sip, the liquid burning fire all the way down. It warms him to the pit of his stomach and the curve of his cheeks.

“You’re drunk Jiminnie,” Yoongi teases, drawing out the three syllables so that it sounds like Jiiiii-min-nie.

“’m not,” Jimin slurs and staggers, falling into Yoongi’s firm grip. Yoongi’s not that much taller or broader than he is but there’s something comforting about his frame. Jimin feels like Yoongi can envelop his body around him and shield him from anything.

“Sure you aren’t kid,” Yoongi says, a small smile against the crown of his head. He takes Jimin by the hand and leads him on through the night.  

*

Jimin wakes briefly.

There’s the sound of two people arguing. Their conversation is muted by the wall but the door is slightly open and the words spill in through there.

“So you’re teaching kids to steal now Namjoon?” Yoongi snarls. There’s the slam of two palms on the table.

Namjoon’s retaliation is no less fierce. “I wouldn’t if I had any other choice. Gods Yoongi, you know I wouldn’t.”

“Then why? He’s just a kid! He can’t even take his alcohol and you’re making him go around sneaking wallets out of people’s back pockets.”

There’s a furious exhale, pure frustration. “It wasn’t always that way. It was just me and Jungkook. Then Taehyung came along. And then Jimin. And I couldn’t support all of us. Not with the meagre pay they give part timers these days.”

“And so you thought ‘thievery’ would be the answer?” Yoongi says scornfully.

Namjoon explodes. “I didn’t think,” he snaps. “It was just…convenient. I was good at it. Jungkook was good at it. Heck, Taehyung was brilliant at it. It was just Jimin who couldn’t do it. He’s too honest for this sort of work. But he doesn’t like being the weakest link. He always keeps trying and trying and…”

“You could have come to us.” Yoongi speaks. His tone is harsh, but it’s quitter now. More stricken. Jimin has to strain his ears to hear the word. “You could have come to any of us. Hoseok, me, even Seokjin. We would have helped you if we knew you needed it.”

“You hated me,” Namjoon cracks. Jimin can hear the tears in his voice. And he has never seen Namjoon cry before. Ever.

Namjoon has always been their pillar of strength. If their foundation cracks, what is left?

But Yoongi is glue and Jimin can imagine it now. Yoongi taking Namjoon in his arms, one hand roughly patting him on the back “No we didn’t you idiot,” he says affectionately. “We were just upset that you thought you didn’t need us. But we could never hate you. Never.”

Jimin feels a shuffling to his right and he cracks open one eye blearily to see Jungkook looking at him worriedly.

“Should we do something?” he asks, looking down at Jimin.

Jimin shakes his head and grabs at Jungkook’s wrist, tugging him down and wrapping his limbs about Jungkook’s skinny frame.

“Umpf, hyung!” Jungkook protests, but Jimin just nuzzles his nose into Jungkook’s neck.

“Trust them,” he mumbles and dozes off.

Jungkook wrinkles his nose. “You smell hyung.” But he doesn’t shove Jimin off, knowing that Jimin is always clingiest when he is most insecure. He just sighs and grabs his end of the blanket and tries to erase the image imprinted on the back of his eyelids of Namjoon crying and being soothed by a stranger.

*

When Jimin wakes it is late morning and the threadbare curtains leak sunlight through their gaping holes. He yawns and cracks his stiff joints, rolling up and out of bed. His mouth feels dry and icky and he notes that both Jungkook and Taehyung are not there.

He stumbles into the kitchen, aiming right for the kitchen sink, and it’s only when he sticks his head under and turns on the water does he see Yoongi totally judging him from their tiny kitchen table.

“Hyu-“ he chokes on the stream of liquid in his mouth and nearly gets a concussion hitting his head on the tap. He fumbles and turns it off, mouth agape and dripping.

“Here,” Yoongi says with a frown and throws a towel into his face.

“W-why are you here?” Jimin splutters, grabbing it out of sheer reflex.

Yoongi frowns and grabs the towel off Jimin, swiping at his face until Jimin is dry and makes a protesting sound.

“I’m here because you and I need to talk.”

Jimin stills. “Talk about…what?”

Yoongi doesn’t beat around the bush. “About your pickpocketing career.”

Jimin swallows hard. The saliva sticks in his throat and feels heavy all the way down. “I-“

“For starters, you suck at it,” Yoongi says blatantly, throwing down the towel and sitting back down in one of the four creaky chairs. “And like I said, you could do so much better.”

Jimin feels his breathing quicken. “I-“

“Do you like stealing Jimin?” Yoongi asks, propping up his chin with one hand. He gives Jimin an even gaze.

Jimin licks his lips. “Not…really, I guess.”

“Then why do you do it?”

“Because I have to.” It sounds like a poor excuse, even to Jimin’s ears.

Yoongi arches a brow. “You have to? Namjoon’s not forcing you, I know that much. And it’s not like you’re good at it, or enjoy it. There’s nobody making you do what you don’t want to do.”

“But if I don’t then I’m just relying on Namjoon and Taehyung and Jungkook!” Jimin bursts out.

Yoongi doesn’t flinch. He simply moves his chin out of his hand and lays his palm down on the table, tapping a gentle rhythm into the old wood. “Why did you run away from home Jimin?” he asks gently.

Jimin is the one who flinches. “Who told you that?”

“Namjoon of course.”

Jimin trembles. How could Namjoon? How could he betray him like this?

“Namjoon didn’t betray you,” Yoongi says sharply. “He’s just doing what’s best for you all. And you know yourself Jimin that you aren’t made for stealing.”

Jimin stumbles back and into the kitchen sink, his hands fumbling for purchase against the cold metal. “But what am I supposed to do elsewise?”

“Whatever you want to do,” Yoongi shrugs. “You’re young. You’re smart enough. You have the world at your fingertips. Don’t limit yourself to petty stealing just because the others around you are doing the same. Don’t you enjoy anything? Singing, dancing, art, science? Don’t you have a dream?”

A dream?

Jimin had one once.

A dream that made him run away from parents that wanted to squash it under the foot of high school and university and a  _proper job that would make money_. But now that Jimin thinks about it he’s been bound by money once again. He ran away from it all and got picked up by Namjoon, and then tried to repay Namjoon with more money.

Just what has he become?

Someone who thinks he can steal anything and everything? Someone who thinks of money as a way of means and ends.

Yoongi exhales and stands, shoving the chair back. “I’ll let you think things over. You have my number if you ever want to talk.”

The door closes and Yoongi is gone. Jimin slides to the floor and cradles his head in his hands.

*

Jimin is still sitting on the kitchen floor, knees drawn up to his chest, when Namjoon comes home.

Namjoon takes one look at him and sighs. “Yoongi-hyung just couldn’t be nice and break it to you softly could he?”

He sinks down next to Jimin and takes a bun out of his bag, tearing it half and offering it to Jimin. Jimin takes it mechanically and takes a bite without even looking. It’s his favorite of course. Char siew. Piping hot.

Tears burns in the back of his eyes and he presses the heel of hand to his eyes to stop them from coming out.

“What am I going to do hyung?” he asks in a cracking voice.

“I don’t know,” Namjoon confesses, leaning back and tilting his head up. The last residues of afternoon light spills through and decorates their table top in an orangey hue. Jimin’s reminded of Yoongi’s red hair and wonders if the leaves this autumn will be the same shade. “I don’t know,” Namjoon exhales. “But for starters, what do you think of moving in with Yoongi-hyung?”

Jimin snaps his head round to stare at Namjoon.

Namjoon looks at him sincerely. “I asked hyung last night and he said he’d talk to his housemates about it. It’ll probably be a tight fit for the seven of us, but…but I thought you’d like it.”

Jimin sniffles and nods. “I would hyung.” This time he lets the tears go and they fall down his cheek. “I really would.”

Namjoon grins and pats him on the head with one hand. “Eat up Jiminnie. Tomorrow, everything changes.”

*

They move into the three bedroom apartment that Seokjin’s parents had bought and lent him the next day. It doesn’t take long to pack their meagre belongings into small duffle bags and sling it over shoulders.

Hoseok promises to make it work, saying they can rearrange the rooms into two pairs and one trio, but for now they’ll have to make do with the living room and spare blankets. They don’t care. It beats the one room one kitchen flat they’d been squeezing into up to now.

Taehyung is ecstatic, bouncing around on all the sofas the minute he lays eyes on them.

“Taehyung! Get down!” Namjoon yells, dropping his duffle bags and grabbing Taehyung by the waist, literally man handling him off the furniture.

Jungkook has the opposite reaction. His eyes are round with amazement and his mouth ajar. Jimin knows this means he is completely stoked.

It’s not that the house is particularly fancy or anything, but it’s homey. The walls are painted white and printed with little black wall stickers. There’s a cheap but furry rug on the floor and a basketball in the corner. From the kitchen comes a smell that rivals the BBQ he and Yoongi had had yesterday.

“Dinner will be ready soon,” Seokjin calls. “We may not have enough plates so some people might have to use paper ones.”

“That’s um fine,” Namjoon says, kicking off his shoes and sounding thoroughly stunned with the welcoming reception. “Can I help?”

Seokjin nods and Namjoon wanders off to the kitchen.

Jimin just stands at the entranceway, not entirely too sure what he should be doing or where he should go. Hoseok is leading Jungkook and Taehyung on an impromptu tour of the house, making each open door and shadowy corner sound far more mysterious that any three bedroom flat should warrant.

It’s Yoongi of course who kicks him in the back of the legs and pushes him forwards, into the house. “What are you waiting for? A formal invitation?”

Yoongi gives him a scathing look that is softened by the smirk on his lips. He pushes past Jimin and picks up the stray basketball. “Could’ve tripped up somebody,” he mutters and spins it on one finger.

Jimin opens his mouth and then closes it.

“Hurry up,” Yoongi says and Jimin mechanically takes off his shoes and enters the living room. Yoongi isn’t there. Jimin follows the logical path through the flung open door and into one of the bedrooms. It’s cozy and messy at the same time. Bed unmade, table covered with bits of paper and pens. A speaker at the far end that looks old and well-loved. Yoongi is sat down on the bed, one leg slung over the other and there’s a hole in sock that Jimin feels the insane compulsion to point out.

“You have a hole in your sock hyung.”

Yoongi pauses in his solo game of tossing the ball against the floor and peers down. “So I do,” he says and goes back to rolling the basketball along the length of one arm, before swiftly transferring it to the other.

Jimin watches entranced.

“Sit down Jiminnie,” Yoongi says and Jimin does so stiffly onto the small office chair at the paper strewn desk.  

“Loosen up,” Yoongi drawls. Jimin tries to, but honestly it’s too overwhelming. It’s only been just over a year since he’s run away from a place that never really felt like home and now he feels dropped right back into a similar situation. Living with Namjoon, Taehyung and Jungkook was always easy, casual. But standing in the same room with Yoongi? It feels like there’s static in the air, crackles in his ears, and Jimin bobs his knees up and down, unable to relax his body. Standing in the same room as Yoongi is like sharing a cage with a tiger, half excitement, half thrill.

Jimin’s sitting there wondering how the hell he can convey this to Yoongi when Yoongi tosses the basketball at him and it’s only out of sheer reflex that he catches it with the tips of his fingers.

“Hyung!” he yelps, narrowly avoiding behind punched in the nose by a ball. “What was that for?”

“Good catch,” Yoongi comments and picks up another stray ball from underneath his bed. He flops down, spreading his entire length across the bed and starts throwing the ball up and down, catching it lazily.

Jimin hugs the ball in his lap and watches Yoongi entertain himself. Eventually his attention wanders, to the words on the table in front of him.

 _Lyrics?_  he thinks as he reads over the scribbled ink.

“Think fast,” Yoongi barks and Jimin barely has the time to look up and catch the second ball that comes flying right at his face. This one is an even narrower catch.

The ball in his lap rolls off his legs and lands on the floor with a  _thunk_. When Jimin’s momentary panic at getting concussion is over and he lowers the ball, Yoongi is right there in his face.

Black eyes narrow. “Who gave you permission to look at my lyrics?”

Jimin swallows. He tries not to react, but Yoongi is just so close. He can feel Yoongi’s hot breath against his nose and see the fine dusting of eyelashes and the smooth traceries of skin. He wonders if Yoongi would let him slide a finger from the tip of his nose up to his eyebrows.

Yoongi still looks like he’s expecting an answer so Jimin croaks out the first thing on his mind that is not  _you look pretty hyung_.  “You let me come into my room.”

“Yeah, so?” Yoongi raises his eyebrows and Jimin has to fight the urge to want to smoothen them down. “Just because I let you into my room doesn’t mean you have automatic permission to do whatever you want. What? So you visit a friend and you think that automatically that lets you strip, do the hokey pokey and spin three times on their coffee table with their eyes closed?”

“You think I’m your friend?” Jimin’s heart leaps.

Yoongi’s deadpan expression greets him. “That’s all you got out of that?” He shakes his head incredulously and moves past Jimin, shuffling the papers into a semblance of neatness and tucking them into a thick notebook. “Don’t look at my stuff again Park Jimin or else you’ll be on my shit list.”

Jimin sits there, heart thudding even though Yoongi is long gone.

Since when has Jimin last felt his heart race like this?

Jimin was meant to be the one stealing Yoongi’s heart, but now, who is the one actually getting their heart stolen?

*

That night they are all sprawled on the floor, coffee table pushed to one side and a chaotic pile of pillows and blankets strewn out. It’s like being back in their old apartment only better.

Except Jimin can’t sleep.

Jungkook is curled into Taehyung side and Namjoon is snoring like a chainsaw, all four limbs sprawled across everyone like some monster octopus.

Jimin wriggles out from under Namjoon’s arm and Taehyung’s hand over his chest and knocks on Yoongi’s door even before he can logic his way out of doing this.

“Hyung,” he whispers, trying not to wake anyone else.

Not to his surprise there is no answer. Jimin decides to persevere anyway and as quietly as he can, twists the doorknob open. He thinks it’s like slipping a hand into someone’s back pocket: slowly, then all at once.

To his surprise Yoongi isn’t asleep. He’s curled into his black chair, pencil end worried between his teeth and sheets of paper scattered across his table. The ceiling light is off and his curtains drawn, but his table lamp shines brightly. A pair of black headphones sit atop his head looping some lyric-less track again and again. Yoongi pauses from time to time to move his mouse and track back to an earlier part of the song.

Jimin watches with fascination as Yoongi twitches, inspiration striking him, and begins to scribble down something with feverish abandon. He pauses, stares at the lines he’s written, then rips out the page, screws it up and tosses it over his shoulder.

Jimin catches it reflexively and the motion attracts Yoongi’s notice.

He tugs of his headphones and gives Jimin a flat gaze. “Who said you could enter my room brat.”

“I knocked,” is all Jimin says as he tosses the paper ball from hand to hand. He wonders if he can get it into the bin from this angle.

“I didn’t hear.” Yoongi doesn’t buy it.

Jimin shrugs. “I know.” Like he cares.

Yoongi curls his bottom lip. “But you still came in.”

“Why are you still up hyung?” Jimin asks, taking a step forwards and peering over Yoongi’s shoulders at his lyrics. Yoongi shoves at him lightly and Jimin lets him do so, going with the flow and sitting down heavily onto Yoongi’s fluffy bed. It’s firm but has a gentle enough sink that makes it comfortable without being too soft. Jimin trails one finger across it and instantly knows what he wants.

Taehyung always did like to say, once a thief, always a thief.

“Didn’t I say if you read my lyrics I’m putting you on my shit list Park Jimin?” Yoongi says warningly, turning away and not seeing the gleam in Jimin’s eyes.

“Does that mean I can stay hyung?” he asks tentatively.

Yoongi snorts. “Stay? Little kids like you should be sleeping eight hours or something. Go back to sleep Park Jimin.”

Jimin grips the paper ball, squashing it in one fist. “I couldn’t sleep,” he admits in a small voice. That gets Yoongi’s attention. He drops his pencil and spins around, affixing his gaze on Jimin.

His voice drops to a low gravel. “And so what did you think coming into my room would accomplish?”

Jimin feels his cheeks heat. “Nothing. I just thought maybe you were up and could chat with me.”

“Liar,” Yoongi says immediately and Jimin feels the flush grow stronger. “You’re an open book Park Jimin. What do you really want?”

Jimin decides to just go for it. He puts on what he hopes it a pitiful voice and asks, “Can I sleep here tonight hyung?”

Yoongi grins, a lazy little thing. “Don’t try beating around the bush ever again Park Jimin. I prefer the straightforward, idiotic you.”

Jimin’s eyes fly open in protest at the word  _idiotic_ , but before he can say anything Yoongi flicks off the lamp light with one finger and crosses the room in a stride.

The sudden darkness swallows Jimin and he can’t see anything. But then he feels an arm slung from his right shoulder and across his chest and Yoongi is tipping him over. The small paper ball in his hand rolls out of his open palm and onto the floor.

“Shove over,” Yoongi mumbles and Jimin complies, shifting closer to the wall to allow Yoongi wriggle into a more comfortable position on his stomach. And Yoongi is way too close for comfort now. Even in the movies there was a greater distance between their hands. But now Yoongi’s face is buried in the pillow, just below the junction of Jimin’s neck and shoulder and Jimin can smell his just dried hair and the scent of milky shampoo.

Could this be the perfect time to do it?

Yoongi’s breathing is slowly evening out, so Jimin takes it as the green signal to turn his head slowly and lift himself up on one elbow. He tries not to disturb the sheets and, success!

He can see it. His target.

It’s dark, but his eyes have gotten used to it. He’s been eyeing them ever since Yoongi grabbed his wrist and shoved him up against a brick wall just three days ago.

Those lips.

Jimin holds his breath and leans down. He’s millimeters away from his target when Yoongi’s eyes snap open, and in the darkness the whites of his pupil shine brightly. Jimin flinches back and the edges of Yoongi’s lips quirk up in an amused smile.

 “Go to sleep Park Jimin,” Yoongi says. “You can go all Casanova in the morning, at more respectable hours.”

Jimin’s heart stutters. “Does that I can kiss you tomorrow hyung?”

Yoongi groans and attempts to drown Jimin under the bedsheets. “Go to sleep you little shit.”

Jimin wriggles his way free and takes a gasp of air.

But then Yoongi wraps his arms around him from behind and tugs him down, yawning and snuggling in close so that his nose is pressing just behind Jimin’s neck and his hair is tickling his ears.

“Go to sleep Jiminnie,” he says softly. “We’ll see tomorrow, about that kiss.”

Jimin smiles and closes his eyes. He sleeps very, very well that night. 

 


	3. Once a thief, Always a thief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jimin tries to steal a kiss and totally fails

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finishing this fic off the 10k+ way.

Ever since the big move to Seokjin’s house, Jimin has been sleeping in Yoongi’s bed nightly.  It’s not that he doesn’t have his own bed. That’s definitely not the case. The first thing Seokjin and Hoseok had done after they moved in was to go out and buy a double bunk for him to share with Taehyung, and he tried. Jimin really did.

It just didn’t work.

Jimin would lie down on the clean white sheets, still stiff with starch, and close his eyes. Half an hour later and his body would still be thrumming like he’d just gone for a run and come back high on adrenaline. He would open his eyes, tense and relax each muscle, close his eyes again and nothing would change. Taehyung’s heavy snores from the bunk below and Jungkook’s soft snuffles from Hoseok’s old bed on the other side of the room would echo in the space, magnifying Jimin’s awareness of his wakefulness and he would lie there until the sun slowly crept through the window blinds.

After the third sleepless night, Yoongi must have gotten tired of seeming the black smudges beneath his eyes because after dinner was done and Jimin had had his allocated shower time, Yoongi had simply pointed to his room and Jimin had happily followed. He had fallen asleep the minute his head had touched the pillow and it had been that way ever since.

Jimin was worried at first what the others would say, but Hoseok just shrugs and says if it means Yoongi wakes up before noon then that’s fine, and Seokjin is just all about amity amongst friends, so apparently that’s all a-ok.

Yoongi grumbles about the loss of his precious bed space and that this must be Jimin’s ploy to get access to a better mattress but in the morning Jimin will wake up to Yoongi’s nose buried in his shoulder and his arm slung over Jimin’s chest. Yoongi cites human warmth when Jimin broaches the subject and shrugs it off like lint on his shirt.

So now the rooms are reshuffled. It’s Yoongi and Jimin are in Yoongi’s room, Seokjin and Namjoon in Seokjin’s, and Hoseok, Taehyung and Jungkook in Hoseok’s.

Surprisingly it works well. Seokjin and Namjoon have hit it off, Seokjin’s softer nature counter balancing Namjoon’s rougher edges. Hoseok on the other hand is a fan favorite to the two maknaes who adore his lovable nature and constant smiles. If it was left up to Jungkook he would take advantage of Hoseok and his loose wallet, but Taehyung intervenes when necessary.

It’s an arrangement that works well mostly. Except for…

“Why are your hands so cold?” Yoongi complains as Jimin wriggles into bed late one night, having been out all day with Hoseok and Taehyung. It’s past 2am and Yoongi was half asleep if his drowsy timbre is anything to go by. It’s rare that Yoongi is in bed before 3, but lately Jimin’s inability to sleep when Yoongi is working, pen scratching away and heavy beats seeping out his headphones, means that Yoongi has been going to bed earlier and earlier. He figures his previously scattered schedule must have been overwritten by Jimin’s ridiculously sensible one.

“You should turn up the heating in the house hyung,” Jimin replies simply and curls the comforter around himself more tightly, wriggling closer to Yoongi as if it will allow him to steal Yoongi’s body warmth.

“Brat,” Yoongi sniffs sleepily but lets him. “As if we’re not spending enough on gas as it is.”

Jimin feels a slight pang of guilt. It’s true that an added four boys means greater bills. And it’s not like they’re doing their part to pay. Seokjin says they can earn their keep when they make money of their own and the ‘adults’ will make do in the meanwhile. But if there’s anything Jimin hates being more than anything, it’s being a burden.

Seokjin, Yoongi and Hoseok get allowance from home NS they supplement it with part time jobs they squeeze in between college hours. Namjoon has a steady job around which he works his music hours, and from that he chips in what meagre money he can make. But it wasn’t enough then and it’s definitely is not enough now.

Back then it was just the four of them: Namjoon, Taehyung, Jungkook and him, all squeezed into one tiny room with a little portable heater to try and save building costs. Namjoon never showed it, but the struggles and the sleepless nights would slowly etch their way as lines onto his face and weights dragging down at his limbs and the guilt that wracked at Jimin would grow and grow and grow.

It had been Jungkook who had first brought on the idea of pickpocketing.

In their old house there had been a small chest where Namjoon kept all their savings. He would hide it in their clothes cupboard and every week or so take out the bills and count it painstakingly, marking down the figures in a tiny notebook of his. Jimin had never seen the amount and he has never dared to look.

But one day Namjoon had stormed into their bedroom, eyes wide and hands trembling.

“What’s wrong hyung?” Jimin had been the one to ask.

Namjoon had thrown down a wad of cash. “Why is there so much there?” he had demanded.

Jimin and Taehyung had given him a confused expression. Jungkook on the other hand had long learned how to school his face into one that gave away nothing. In doing so though, it gave everything away.

“Jungkook?” Namjoon hissed, spotting the sign and turning on him immediately. “What do you know about this?”  

Jungkook whitened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about hyung,” he had said stiffly. Jungkook was a master of faces but not of voices. His tone spoke volumes.

“Jimin and Taehyung are open books. The only one I can’t trust here is you.” Namjoon fisted the cash in one hand. “Jungkook. Was it you who put the money in here?”  

Jungkook turned his face away. “I…”

“How did you get the money?”

Jungkook bit his lip.

Namjoon affixed a stern gaze onto the youngest. “I remember forbidding you guys to get any part time jobs-“

“I didn’t,” Jungkook had burst out, unable to hold back defending himself.

“Then how did you get the cash?” Namjoon asked levelly.

Jimin and Taehyung had watched the conversation bounce back and forth like a tennis match: Namjoon with his constant attack and Jungkook with his faltering defenses.

Jungkook caved. “I…stole it,” he admitted in a tiny voice and Namjoon’s eyes had popped out their sockets.  

“You  _stole_ it?” he thundered, throwing the money to one side where it had fluttered and fallen to the ground in a shower of green. Taehyung had lunged for it, grabbing it up into a shuffled pile before anyone could step on or rip the bills which everyone – most of all Namjoon – would regret later.

At that moment Namjoon had been focusing on one thing only – Jungkook. He had stepped forwards, eyes flashing and Jungkook had flinched. An angry Namjoon was not something you held your ground against easily.

Jimin had been torn between throwing himself in front of Jungkook, a last ditch desperation against the category five threat that was Namjoon, and between sitting there and letting things play it out because well, Jungkook had stolen and that was wrong. Really wrong.

“I would have preferred if you had gotten a part time job behind my back,” Namjoon hissed. “But to have stolen? What on Earth would possess you-“

“Because we were running out of money!” Jungkook had blurted, and Namjoon had frozen. “I saw your notebook. We don’t have enough to pay for next month’s rent, do we?”

Jimin turned to Namjoon. “Is that true hyung?”  

Namjoon had folded in on himself.

Jungkook in turn towered. “You can tell me I was wrong, but the truth is that you can’t support us alone, can you?”

“I-“ Namjoon hesitated. Three pairs of eyes stared him down. He deflated. “Jungkook’s right. My job’s not paying enough and after Taehyung’s hospital fee we don’t have enough for next month. But I’ll talk to the landlord, see if he can give us a few month’s leeway-“

“You just asked him for one last month,” Taehyung had pointed out bluntly, the pitifully small wad of bills falling through his fingers. His voice was flat, not with intentional cruelty, but because Namjoon’s words had struck home hard.

Taehyung had had an accident playing football with the other school boys last month. He had needed sixteen stitches and the costs had not been cheap. Namjoon had brushed it off then, convincing everyone that he had taken the money out of their extra savings, but apparently it had been a lie.

Namjoon was barely eighteen. He wasn’t in any sort of position to be taking care of three other boys and their daily needs. Yet he had. It had almost been a miracle that something like this hadn’t happened sooner.

“Please don’t do this again,” Namjoon had begged, bring the conversation to a close. Jungkook had agreed, albeit a little mutinously, and that had been that for a while.

Until bills had come and the landlord had lost all patience and yelled so loudly down the phone line that Jungkook had heard him from across the room, had seen Namjoon wince and beg profusely and then stare at the beeping phone as on the other side it was rudely hung up.

Back then Namjoon should have known that Jungkook promises are paper thin in the face of greater adversaries.

The next week there had been more than enough cash in the box and Namjoon knew why.

“You too Taehyung,” he had said in a tiny voice. “You’re stealing now as well?”

Taehyung hadn’t looked apologetic. “If Jungkook can do it, then so can I.” And that was that.

When maknae had decided to steal again, Taehyung had gone with him. He had watched the younger and covered his back, and then as easy as slipping on a glove, he had gone and stolen a wallet like it was second nature.

Namjoon could no longer argue against the practice for it was working. It was paying the bills and putting food on their tables. All Namjoon could do was follow in their footsteps and make sure that the boys under his protection did not get caught. He monitored and advised them, told them only to steal when absolutely necessary and to never  _ever_  take risks.

He also told Jimin to just give up on stealing because he was hopeless at it.

Jimin makes a smug expression as he thinks,  _well look at where stealing got me now_.

Yoongi’s dead to the world in sleep, face down into their shared pillow. His lips are parted incrementally and his regular inhale, exhale sends the sheets concaving and then flexing back. Jimin pokes his cheek with one finger and Yoongi stirs, twitching slightly, before resuming his even breaths.

It’s cute and it makes Jimin smile.

Jimin likes their new lifestyle. No one has to steal anymore; no one has pretend anymore. It’s the seven of them working together and Jimin really, really likes it.

The only thing he doesn’t like as much is that Yoongi has a promised him a kiss and despite it being nearly a month since, he still hasn’t delivered. Okay so technically it was a promise that Yoongi would discuss the possibilities of a kiss with Jimin, but even that hasn’t so much as appeared in any of their conversations.

All he ever talks about are domestic matters. How are you doing in school Jimin? Do you have enough clothes for winter Jimin? What about your trainers Jimin? They’re getting awfully ragged and holey. Anyway, do you think we can get Seokjin to buy us beef for dinner Jimin? Hey. Um. Jimin? Earth to Jimin?

Yoongi’s taken over his role has Jimin’s hyung all too seriously and that’s not what Jimin wants from him. What he wants instead is…

Jimin leans over, his breath ghosting over Yoongi’s cheek. If he kisses Yoongi now, does it still count as their first kiss together?

Yoongi gives a tiny sigh in his sleep and Jimin pauses.

Somehow stealing a kiss in his sleep sounds anticlimactic and if there’s anything Jimin doesn’t want to be, it’s a bore. Jimin settles back into the sheets and pulls the covers up.

He may not be a conventional thief but he’s still a thief at heart and if he’s going to steal a kiss from Yoongi’s pretty lips then he’s going to steal it the proper way.

*

Its morning and Yoongi is yawning into his cereal, a milk moustache painted above his upper lip. Jimin shovels a mouthful of yoghurt into his mouth, not tasting it one bit, and narrows his eyes thoughtfully at his target.

He could lean over and brush a thumb over Yoongi’s lips, making an excuse about the mess there and then lean in close and take advantage of the close proximity…

Or conversely, he could do the reverse: smear yoghurt over his own lips and make a mess, tempting Yoongi in turn…

Jimin’s eyes gleam. The second plan it is. After all it wouldn’t be fun if the thief gave chase all the time. Sometimes a little reverse psychology can be well applied.

Jimin grins as he digs out a big spoonful of yoghurt from his bowl and makes a show of smearing it across his lips. It goes a bit extreme and he ends up with a kind of yoghurt beard all over his cheek and lower chin. But oh well.

Jimin steals a glance at Yoongi to assess if his plan is working. But Yoongi is just yawning, misaiming his spoonful of cereal with the force of the yawn. Taehyung swoops over and inhales it instead.

“Taehyung,” Yoongi grumbles as he realizes his breakfast has just been swiped. “Really?”

“Thanks hyung.” Taehyung flashes a grin and prances away. He catches sight of Jimin’s face and raises an eyebrow. “Do you not know how to feed yourself Jiminnie?” he grins and Yoongi looks up, noticing the mess and snorts.

“I think Jimin baby’s a little too young to be feeding himself,” Yoongi adds, joining in on Taehyung’s games.

Jimin’s about to protest and clean up the mess himself when Taehyung swoops over and snatches his spoon, digging out a huge heap of yoghurt and flying it straight at Jimin’s mouth.

“Tae-“ Jimin protests, opening his mouth and Taehyung flies the spoon straight in, making Jimin choke and splutter.

“There you go,” Taehyung coos. “Jimin baby needs help eating, so hyung will help you out here.”

“Mndnpfhrrr,” Jimin complains around the spoon. Taehyung isn’t older than him and that he can feed himself perfectly fine!

Taehyung pulls it out and Jimin gasps for breath. “You could’ve killed me!” he glares at Taehyung who simply spoons up another mouthful of yoghurt and hovers it in the air threateningly.

Jimin flinches and shoves his chair backwards.

“Here comes the aeroplane,” Taehyung sings as he flies the spoon forwards.

“Hell no!” Jimin yelps and runs for his life.

Hoseok stumbles into the kitchen with sleep still in his eyes. “Whas going on,” he mumbles, one hand rubbing at his eyes as he surveys Jimin running around the kitchen and Taehyung chasing him with a spoon. Hoseok looks to Yoongi for an answer, but Yoongi just shrugs and shakes the cereal box at Hoseok.

Hoseok raises his eyebrow and side-steps Jimin, taking the vacated seat and accepting the box. He’s curious, but it’s too damn early to care any further. He pours himself a bowl of cereal and ignores Jimin’s screeches that echo out from the living room.

*

Jimin grumbles as he brushes his teeth in the tiny bathroom all seven of them share. If anything its shower time that is a horror to sort out.

Jungkook shuffles in, long sweatpants dragging. He shoves Jimin to one side good naturedly and paws for his own toothbrush. Like the good hyung Jimin is, he grabs the toothbrush, squirts some toothpaste onto it and places it in Jungkook’s flailing hands.

“Thanks,” Jungkook mumbles and starts brushing, eyes completely closed.

Only when he has to gargle and rinse does he finally open his eyes. They meet Jimin’s in the mirror and Jungkook goes, “You have yoghurt on your neck.” And indeed Jimin does.

“Thanks,” Jimin grumbles and turns on the tap to wet his hand and wipe it away.

“Why do you have yoghurt on your neck?” Jungkook asks, looking perplexed as someone who has just woken up can.

Jimin’s eyebrows dip with annoyance. “Taehyung’s fault,” he says and pushes past Jungkook before he can ask anything more. Goddamn Kim Taehyung.

So fine. That plan failed, mostly due to Kim Taehyung whom Jimin’s going to have to keep a sharp eye out for in the future, but that’s okay. Jimin learns from his mistakes. Jimin can improve. Jimin’s not going to give up just yet.

A good thief is a persistent thief.

*

This is Plan B. B for Back to the Basics.

Jimin has been researching ‘how to seduce guys into kissing you’ on Yoongi’s laptop for the past hour or so. Most of the websites seem to offer overlapping ideas which Jimin has summarized on a rough scrap of spare paper that Yoongi keeps around.

> **Step #1: Make eye contact**
> 
> **Step #2: Make skin contact**
> 
> **Step #3: Draw attention to your lips**
> 
> **Step #4: Close the distance between the two of you**
> 
> **Step #5: If all else fails, make the first move.**

Jimin lets out a liberating exhale. Alright. This time he’s going to make it work. He’s got a plan and where there’s a will there is a way.

The bedroom door flies open all of a sudden and Jimin flinches, hand slamming the laptop lid down quickly.

“H-hyung,” he stammers, wide eyed as he spins around.

“Oi,” Yoongi grumbles. “What are you doing at my table?”

“Nothing,” Jimin says unconvincingly.

Yoongi snorts and rolls into bed. “Hurry up and turn off the lights,” he says, voice muffled as he yawns into an open palm.

Jimin’s heart slows down as he realizes that Yoongi hasn’t seen him using his laptop and that’s he’s safe. He lets out a relived sigh and gets up to turn off the light. But then the words come back hauntingly.  _Make eye contact._

There’s a saying that there’s no time like the present.

Jimin looks over to Yoongi who’s scrolling through his phone, probably on twitter or something. He glances up when he notices the lights are not off yet and frowns at Jimin.

“What?”

Jimin meets his gaze and stares back, eyes narrowing a bit with intensity. He has to transmit his feelings like this.  _Kiss me. C’mon hyung, you know you want to kiss me._

Yoongi stares back flatly. “What are you doing?”

Jimin blinks.

Message not received apparently.

“Hurry up and come to bed,” Yoongi says with a click of his tongue and Jimin sighs and does as he’s told.

This is going to work, right?

*

Jimin reasons that step 1 didn’t work because he rushed into it too quickly. That doesn’t mean it won’t work. He’s just got to try it again. After all, a good thief is a patient thief.

Jimin snaps awake the next morning like a good night’s sleep has granted him clarity. Yoongi is still dead to the world next to him, lips moving as he mumbles nonsensical words into Jimin’s shoulder.

Jimin rolls over and considers his plan of attack. This time he’s going to be more forward.  He leans over on one elbow and stares down at Yoongi, already recognizing Yoongi’s wake up signs as his eyelids twitch and he curls in on himself.

Sure enough Yoongi’s eyes blink open slowly and he yawns into the pillow, wriggling in deeper as if he can stave off wakefulness.

But then he seems to sense Jimin’s determined stare and he tilts his head upwards, eyes half open, and his mouth curls downwards when he sees Jimin watching him.

“Seriously,” Yoongi grumbles, more of a mumble, his voice too sleep drenched to come off as anything more coherent. “What are you doing?”

He turns his head away and Jimin flops down onto the bed so they don’t lose their eye contact.

Yoongi’s eyes narrow. “Get out of my face Park Jimin,” he hisses and rolls over to face the wall.

Jimin sits up on his knees and leans over Yoongi’s body. It’s an awkward squeeze and Yoongi’s face looks upside down but the eye contact is there and now Yoongi is glowering at him.

“Really?” he hisses. Jimin doesn’t reply. He just widens his eyes and tries to intensify the eye contact. Fed up, Yoongi grabs his legs and tosses him over so that they hit the wall and Jimin crumples to the bed. Yoongi rolls out, complaining about the cold floorboards and annoying kids as he throws open the door and stomps out.

Jimin’s left lying there watching him go. So maybe it wasn’t a matter of rushing? Maybe step 1 is just a dud after all?

There’s a yelp from outside the door. Seokjin. “What are you doing up so early Yoongi?” he squeaks.

“Couldn’t get a good night’s sleep,” Yoongi grumbles and storms away.

Seokjin pops his head in through the door and his eyes widen fractionally when he sees Jimin. “What did you do?” he asks and Jimin gives him wide eyes and a shrug, still viewing the world from upside down. “Huh,” Seokjin says and vanishes back out.

Yeah. What did he do?

*

Since step 1 didn’t work, Jimin’s just going to steamroll ahead and move to step 2 – skin contact. Surely that’s got to be less ambiguous than eye contact. And a good thief is an adaptable thief. So yeah, if step 1 didn’t work then he’ll just try something new.

Yoongi’s lying on the couch in the living room, a textbook in his lap and a focused expression on his face. It’s Saturday and Jimin doesn’t have school, but apparently college keeps different hours and Yoongi is busy studying.

Jimin slips down onto the arm rest and peeks over Yoongi’s shoulder.

“What are you reading?” he asks, leaning over and looking at the words which swim back and forth, meaning absolutely nothing to him.

“Stuff,” Yoongi murmurs back, not really paying attention. He turns a page and continues reading.

Jimin lets his chin rest on Yoongi’s shoulder. “What did you say you were doing at college again?”

“Music theory and composition,” Yoongi replies distantly and turns another page. “And business,” he says in afterthought.

Jimin wrinkles his nose. “Business?” He wouldn’t have put it down as a very Yoongi thing.

“My parents wanted it,” Yoongi murmurs, frowning slightly and tapping at a certain section of the page. He leans forwards to concentrate on the paragraph and Jimin loses the skin contact.

In retaliation he rolls himself into the small space between Yoongi’s back and the arm rest, squeezing himself in there. He loops his arms over Yoongi’s shoulder and pops his head back over.

“You’re heavy,” Yoongi grumbles but doesn’t shove him off. Instead, when he finishes analyzing the paragraph he leans back into Jimin and relaxes there. He’s just the right size that he fits quite nicely between Jimin’s arms. Yoongi’s wearing a soft black tee today and Jimin lets his hands run up and down the bare skin of his forearms, pretending that he’s just warming up Yoongi’s cold skin. Yoongi seems to like it and a hum builds at the back of his throat as he finishes the chapter and slides his bookmark back in.

“What’s up with you?” he asks, tilting his head back to look at Jimin. Jimin’s eyes goes to the long column of throat and the way his adam’s apple stands out prominently.

“Nothing,” Jimin says going for casual and Yoongi’s lips quirk upwards.

“Really? Are you bored being indoors? What happened to Hoseok and Taehyung? Where are your playmates?”

“They went out early. I don’t know where.”

“Is Jimin-baby lonely without them?” Yoongi teases, a grin flashing playfully across his face.

Jimin makes a face. “No.”

Yoongi grabs at Jimin’s moving hands and forces them still. He twists, turning around so that they’re face to face and shifts until his forehead is touching Jimin’s. “No?” he asks again, voice low and sultry and Jimin’s breath catches in his throat.

“N-no,” he manages and Yoongi pulls back, laughing.

“Alright then. Seokjin wants to go grocery shopping at eleven. Wanna come with?”

Jimin nods dumbly, unable to speak and Yoongi ruffles his head once then slides off the couch, grabbing his book and padding back to their bedroom to stash it.

Jimin’s hand goes up to touch his forehead and he wonders if he’s running a fever or if he’s just imaging things because the spot feels burning hot and Jimin sinks down into the couch, wondering if step 2 was a success or not?

 

*

Regardless, Jimin decides that it’s prime time to move onto step 3. After all a good thief is a focused thief. Eyes on the prize and all that.

They’re at the supermarket – Seokjin, Yoongi, Jimin and Jungkook – and Seokjin sweeps by the bathroom aisle, hands plucking out handwash bottles and inspecting the fine print on the back with eagle eyes. Jungkook is distracted by the crisps section and Yoongi is looking at shampoo shelves. Jimin turns away, bored, and his eyes wander to the make-up section. Specifically, the lip gloss section. That’s when an idea strikes him.

He’s never bothered with such things before, making do with chapped lips when winter sets in, and well Jimin can’t imagine why anyone would put that shiny, shimmery stuff on their lips but this morning’s internet trawl reminds him vividly of the advice.  _Step 3: Draw attention to the lips_.

So he crouches down and picks up a taster tube, unscrewing it and making a face at the ridiculously pink sheen. He puts it down quickly and makes sure the next time he looks at the lid cover carefully. This one’s a lighter shade of red, and when Jimin smears it against the back of his hand it doesn’t come out too strongly. When he tilts it back and forth, the sheen sparkles and Jimin’s brow furrows, wondering what it will look like on his lips.

He rubs a bit on one finger, and then uses that to apply the gloss to his bottom lip. He uses the back of the reflective silver tube as a makeshift mirror and angles it as he applies it. At first it looks horrendously too bright and Jimin scrubs at it furiously with his knuckles. But then surprisingly it seems to smoothen out and blend and when he rubs his top lip over it, it actually looks okay. Yeah, it could work.

Yoongi is browsing through toothbrushes just a few feet away and Jimin straightens, intending to get Yoongi’s first hand opinion on it when a voice stops him.

“Jimin?” Seokjin says a little cautiously, and Jimin turn. “Are you wearing lipstick?”

Jimin falters. “Ahh, umm, I don’t think so…”

“Okay, maybe it’s not lipstick but that is women lip gloss in your hand,” Seokjin points out and Jimin turns the tube to read the incriminating tiny print at the bottom.  _To seduce that sexy someone._

Umm….

Seokjin raises his eyebrows mildly. “The guy’s section is over here,” he gestures to the shelf behind him and Jimin feels his cheeks flush. He rubs furiously at the sticky mess on his lips but all it seems to do is smear it further over his cheeks and gods is he embarrassed. Seokjin tries to hold back the smile that tugs at the corner of his lips. He helpfully digs into his pockets and pulls out a scrap of tissue, offering it to Jimin.

 “Thanks,” Jimin mutters in a low voice and reaches for it, but then a hand intercepts the exchange and Jimin’s chokes as Yoongi clasps the tissue between his fingers.

“What on earth are you doing Park Jimin,” Yoongi says briskly and takes the tissue to his cheek, wiping away the excess lipstick with a patronizing raise of his eyebrows. “Seriously, has Jimin baby here not graduated from pre-school? Is the first thing you do when you see something new to put it in your mouth?”

Jimin can feel his face heat up and he wants to turn away from Yoongi so he can’t see his expression, but Yoongi is holding his chin firmly with one hand and rubbing furiously at the mess on his mouth with the tissue in his other.

He makes a clicking sound with his tongue that tells Jimin he’s been dismissed, and then to add insult to injury, drops the reddened crumple of tissue into Jimin’s hand. “I think it’s mostly gone. Go find a bathroom and clean up the rest. And stop putting things in your mouth. You’re not five.”

Yoongi turns away and Jimin is left standing mortified, trying to ignore Seokjin who is doing his best not to double over laughing.  

So step three, a certified failure.  

*

Jimin sits cross legged on the couch, biting at his knuckles and thinking. So far his plans have fallen through and the future isn’t looking bright. But he’s not giving up just yet. A good thief is a determined thief. He just needs one chance. Work with the lips. Draw attention to the lips. No lip gloss. No lipstick. What else can he use?

“Let’s watch a movie tonight!” Taehyung yells as he dives onto the sofa, landing heavily on his hands and belly and ploughing his nose right into Jimin’s thigh.

Taehyung reaches over Jimin’s legs to grab for the remote. It’s just out of his reach and he wriggles furiously on his belly to try and shorten the five inch distance between the tips of his fingers and the remote.

Jimin watches amused until someone comes over and decides to put Taehyung out of his misery. “Here you,” Hoseok says fondly as he drops the remote into Taehyung’s outstretched hands.

Taehyung beams up at him and turns on the TV.

“What’s on?” Hoseok asks as he settles down next to Jimin. Taehyung shuffles up to make room for him, not pausing as he flicks through several channels, making faces at a black and white vampire movie and then wincing at some cheesy chick flick that consists of a lot of high pitched squealing. Then with another flick of his thumb he changes channels again and all three of them splutter.

On the screen is a close up shot of a couple making out. Jimin feels like he’s lost the ability to breathe as the actors slowly lock lips. There’s the slick sound of movement, wet and magnified. Their breathing sounds so heavy that it ought to be illegal. Then, a scandalous slip of a tongue sneaking out and Jimin squeaks, backing into the sofa as far as he can possible go. It breaks the pregnant silence and Hoseok coughs whilst Taehyung gags.

“Change the channel,” Hoseok says hoarsely, waving a hand at Taehyung and Taehyung complies more than willingly.

They land on some safe documentary about fluffy dogs and sheep herding and Jimin swallows and tries to settle down. But hours later when he’s lying in Yoongi’s bed the image of lips moving in synchronization against one another is imprinted on the back of his lids.

The kind of problem here is that Jimin has never kissed anyone before. He’s always had this image that kissing would be fun and smooth and slick. He’s never thought of it as  _sexual_. Not until now.

Jimin gulps and burrows further under the sheets.

There’s a sigh in the distance and then a click. Jimin stills as he feels Yoongi clamber into bed, shoving him good naturedly up to the wall. He’s glad that in the dark Yoongi can’t see how red his cheeks must be. Jimin just hopes he can’t feel the heat practically exuding from his skin.

Apparently not because Yoongi flips over and burrows himself into the pillow right next to Jimin’s ear as per usual.

It’s their normal routine but suddenly Yoongi is too close and Jimin can feel his heat radiating and all he can think about is the movie again, lips locked against one another. He gulps deeply and tries to think about cabbage.

There are a few minutes of silence which follow and Jimin feverently hopes Yoongi has fallen asleep. But then there’s a quiet crack of a voice. “What was up with you today?” Yoongi asks softly, eyes still closed.

Jimin tries to clear his throat but there’s still something thick and fast stuck there. “I- uh, nothing.”  

Yoongi snorts quietly into the pillow. “You nothing? You nothing what?”

Jimin makes a tiny whining sound at the back of his voice. “It was nothing. There’s nothing wrong.”

For a moment he thinks he has Yoongi convinced, but then there’s a rustling sound and Yoongi turns over. In the dark of the room his eyes shine, reflecting the moonlight that slips in through the curtains. “You don’t have to hide things you know,” he says, voice low and reassuring. It washes over Jimin like sunshine.

 “I know,” Jimin whispers and presses his nose up against the warmth of Yoongi’s shoulder where he can’t see Yoongi’s face. Here is safe. “But it really is nothing.”

Yoongi gives a small sigh but lets him be.

That’s right, Jimin thinks and exhales softly into the cotton of Yoongi’s sleep shirt. Nothing. There’s absolutely nothing wrong at all.

*

Except that there is something wrong.

Jimin finds his eyes constantly wandering to Yoongi’s lips. It’s an unconscious action and it’s starting to scare him. Before winning Yoongi’s lips was more of a game; now it’s something borderline obsession. He can’t help reimaging the movie scene, superimposed with his lips over Yoongi’s lips and he’s not sure if it’s something he likes.

“Jimin, you’re dreaming,” Namjoon says casually one day over lunch when Jimin’s spoon is hanging out of his mouth and he’s lost in thoughts again.

Jimin snaps to attention and the spoon falls out of his mouth, clattering obnoxiously loud on the table. Namjoon winces and picks up the spoon, offering it back to Jimin.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks as he stirs his half-cold noodles.

Jimin puts his head down and hopes Namjoon drops it.

Of course Namjoon doesn’t. “You’ve been avoiding Yoongi-hyung a lot lately. Except for well, bed time.” He snickers and Jimin groans, pushing his head down further into his food. Only Namjoon is enough of an ass to make fun of their situation – nearly three weeks late.

“Aw, c’mon Jimin, I’m just teasing,” Namjoon says, poking him with the end of the spoon that Jimin hasn’t taken back. It’s cold and wet and Jimin gives a tiny yelp, skidding away from Namjoon and his weapons of mass destruction. “But seriously, why are you avoiding Yoongi-hyung?”

Jimin gives a little sigh. There’s no point trying to beat around the bush; Namjoon’s relentless at things like that. “I thought I wanted to kiss Yoongi-hyung. Now I’m not sure.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen exponentially. “You want to kiss Yoongi?  _Why?”_ He makes a face, lips pulled back in utter revulsion.

Jimin grabs the spoon and whacks Namjoon’s arm with the back of it. “Don’t be mean hyung,” he sniffs. “You just can’t understand Yoongi-hyung’s awesomeness.”

Namjoon snorts. “Awesome? Yoongi? In the same sentence?”

Jimin purses his lips and feels his cheeks inflate. Let Namjoon step one more toe out of line.

“Okay, okay, you two, break it up,” Seokjin swoops in and raps them both on the head. “Gosh. Children these days.”

“I’m not a child hyung,” both Jimin and Namjoon say in a very petulant tone, but then they stop when they realize it only serves to emphasize Seokjin’s point.

Seokjin kicks out a chair and sits down, helping himself to Namjoon’s food. “So you like Yoongi-hyung,” he says to Jimin, all matter-of-fact and stuff.

Jimin feels his cheeks redden, because god, who puts it as bluntly as that. But it’s the truth so he nods and Seokjin makes an assenting sound.

“Okay, and so you want to kiss him.”

This time Jimin hesitates and Seokjin sees it.

“You don’t want to kiss him?” he hedges, raising an eyebrow and evaluating Jimin’s face for an answer. Jimin’s brow furrows and he plays with the spoon in his hand. “Well?” Seokjin prompts.

“I don’t know,” Jimin confesses, not looking at Seokjin at all. “I thought I did. But then we were watching this movie the other day and there was… _kissing_ , like all intimate and stuff, and now…now I don’t know. It looks…weird.”  

Seokjin’s expression melts. “Aww, you’re adorable,” he coos and leans over to squeezes Jimin’s cheeks. “It’s puppy love I tell you.”

Namjoon just motions throwing up behind Seokjin’s back, eyes rolled back into his sockets and spine hunched out.

“I saw that,” Seokjin says warningly and Namjoon freezes. He sighs and turns back to the cold remains of his meal, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like  _eyes on the back of his head_  darkly under his breath.

Seokjin lets go of his grip on Jimin’s cheeks and Jimin rubs at them gratefully. Seokjin might not look like it, but he has a strong hold.

“I think you should slow down for a bit Jimin,” Seokjin says in advice. “You’re rushing into this too quickly. Give it some time and you’ll find that things will reach their own resolution.”

Jimin frowns at that.

Seokjin gives a tiny huff. “Well if you don’t want to do that, why don’t you just go talk to Yoongi yourself? I’m sure he’s willing to be reasonable and talk it out.”

Jimin blushes bright red. Talk to Yoongi? Face to face? What would he say?  _Um, so you know about that kiss I brought up on the night we moved in, yeah well I’m not sure if I still want it, oh but I’ve been trying to steal a kiss from you for the past few days and uh, um,_ yeah just no.

Jimin shakes his head vigorously and Seokjin sighs. “Fine. Up to you. Just don’t do anything rash and make Yoongi snap. He’s scary when he’s angry.”

Jimin gulps and thinks back to their first meeting where Yoongi had Jimin up against the wall and his body had been a cage. Yeah Jimin can kind of imagine what an angry Yoongi would be like.

Seokjin gives him an encouraging thumbs up and turns back to Namjoon’s meal, snagging the last bite as Namjoon lifts the spoon.

“Hyung!  I was saving that piece of chicken!”

*

Jimin hesitates outside of Yoongi’s bedroom door. He shifts from one foot to the other, his hand raised, unsure of whether to knock or not. It’s been a while since he’s been in this situation. One month to be precise.

When he does knock, there’s no response.

Maybe he was too quiet? He knocks again, slightly louder, but to no avail. Jimin pauses and strains his ears. Maybe is Yoongi not in?

But as he presses his ear to the door Jimin realizes he can hear voices. Plural. Multiple. What? Jimin gentle presses down onto the door handle, pushing it open a crack and peeping through to see if Yoongi really has guests over or if he’s imaging things.

It looks like Yoongi is alone in their shared bedroom, but he’s definitely talking to someone. Jimin risks opening the door a crack to see if maybe Yoongi’s on the phone. He spies an open laptop and grainy movement on the screen. Oh. Yoongi’s skyping someone.

“Appa,” Yoongi heaves a harsh exhale, one hand rubbing at his collar bones, an act of frustrated. “Seriously. I like the lifestyle I have here. I’m doing well in my courses. We’ve talked about this already.”

Jimin freezes.

“I know you disapprove of a career in music but I can show you I can do it.” Another frustrated little huff. “Yes, I’m not just saying it for the sake of saying it. I mean it….No I know you think music won’t make money but that isn’t everything. Yes! I understand you want the best for me and for me to live comfortably but right now that’s not what matters to me!”

Yoongi’s voice is sharp and unflinching, and it mkes Jimin jump. He lands awkwardly on a creaky floorboard and Yoongi turns, his chair swiveling. He catches sight of Jimin and his eyes narrow.  _Come in_ , he mouths and jerks his head towards the bed.

He then turns back to the screen. “Okay, it’s late. Pass on my regards to eomma. I’ll talk to you another time.”

Jimin feels like he’s been caught doing something illegal as he slinks into the bedroom. Yoongi doesn’t look upset at him though. He closes down the skype chat and runs a frustrated hand through his hair. It’s directed at his parents.

Jimin sits down as quietly as he can on the bed. “You heard the conversation?” Yoongi says, turning around to face him.

Jimin shuffles. “Yeah,” he admits in a tiny voice, wondering if this is when he’ll see an angry Yoongi.

Yoongi’s eyes are dark as pitch and his mouth is downturned, but it’s not an angry expression. “It’s okay Jiminnie, I was just a little irritated with home. You probably just wanted to go to bed. It’s fine.”

Jimin closes his mouth and decides to roll with that story.

“I’ll be staying up for a bit if that’s okay. I have a report due in next week and I’m behind on my research. I’ll just keep the lamp light on, okay?” Yoongi flicks on his lamp light and gets up to turn off the ceiling light. “Is it too bright?” he asks Jimin anxiously and bleh, there it is, all the domestic I’m-your-hyung-and-taking-care-of-you-stuff and that little lick of a vindictive flame re-ignites in Jimin’s belly.

“Hyung,” Jimin calls out softly and Yoongi pauses just as he is about to put his headphones on.

“Yeah?”

“I wanted to ask you something.”

“Yes?” Yoongi’s sitting there expectantly, his headphones around his neck and his feet tapping impatiently on the floor. As quickly as it appears, the flames go out and Jimin’s mouth feels incredibly dry all of a sudden.

“Sometime tonight?” Yoongi prompts and Jimin coughs and tries to give voice to the words.

“I um, my birthday,” Jimin manages to get out which is so off the beaten track that he winces.

“When is it?” Yoongi asks, not noticing his internal conflict raging on.

“October,” Jimin responds out of habit.

“October the?”

“Thirteenth.”

“And so?”

“Um,” Jimin pauses there. Yeah. So what?

“You want a present?’ Yoongi asks, turning and eyes gleaming amusedly. “Does this baby boy want something special for his, what? eighteenth?”

“Nineteenth,” Jimin blurts out and it only serves to fuel Yoongi’s grin wider.

“Sure sure baby boy,” Yoongi teases and Jimin groans and throws himself face first into the pillow.

“Sleep tight. Don’t let the bed bugs bite,” Yoongi sings out as he puts on his headphones and a steady thump issues out from them. Soon enough they’re accompanied with the furious clicking of the touch pad and the keys and it must be the fever burning in his cheeks because for some reason despite the incessant noise that usually keeps Jimin up, tonight he  has no trouble falling asleep.

*

Jimin wakes to an empty bed.

In his half-awake state it doesn’t register until his hand touches the coldness of the sheets to his left and he groggily pushes himself out of bed. It’s rare that Yoongi is awake before he is. Usually he’s tasked with waking his roommate up because a) he’s his roommate, and more importantly b) no one else wants to be the one at the receiving end of a grumpy Yoongi.

Jimin stumbles into the kitchen still yawning and Seokjin gives him a warm good morning. “Sleep well?” he asks, and there’s the implied  _did you talk with Yoongi?_  in the undertone.

Jimin shuffles into a chair and lets Seokjin dish out some eggs and bacon and it’s only when he’s finally taking a long gulp of orange juice does he mention, “Do you know where Yoongi-hyung is? He wasn’t in when I woke up.”

That gets Seokjin mildly surprised. “Really? I haven’t seen him all morning. I assumed he was still asleep.”

Jimin blinks and takes a bite of the egg on toast. Huh. Where could Yoongi be?

*

The pattern continues for a good week or so, Yoongi returning late at night or staying up past two am to work on something. And come morning he’s always gone. Jimin’s getting real tired of a cold bed by now.

“Hyung,” he pokes Yoongi in the shoulder one afternoon when Yoongi is flipping through a book in the living room. “Where have you been going all week?”

Yoongi promptly closes the book and stands up. “Around,” he says and pushes past Jimin. Jimin watches him go with a bewildered look because what’s gotten into his hyung?

*

“Okay, what’s up Yoongi?” Hoseok asks sternly, cornering him in the bathroom where Yoongi is washing his face. “You’ve been avoiding Jimin all week.”

Yoongi gives a lazy shrug. “None of your business,” he says as he roughly towels off his face.

“Hyung,” Hoseok rolls his eyes and says warningly. “Really?”

Yoongi returns the favor with rolled eyes of his own and pushes past Hoseok for the door. “Oh,” he says in afterthought and halts. “It’s Jimin’s birthday next week. Just thought you guys would want to know.”

He pushes open the door and lets it fall close on Hoseok’s high pitched yelp of “What?!”

Yoongi smirks and mentally high fives himself. Successful distraction.

*

What Yoongi’s been doing all week is thinking. And to think, he needs time off from Jimin. It’s Jimin’s birthday next week and Yoongi’s been pondering what to get him.

He wants it to mean something. He wants it to show something.

Jimin’s not been shy in his recent endeavors though he’s back off a bit lately. But Yoongi isn’t sure if he’s ready to give Jimin just that, at least not just yet.

There are time when it’s four in the morning and Jimin is fast asleep and Yoongi will prop himself up on an elbow and watch Jimin sleep, face cast and shadowed by the moonlight, smooth without worries. He’ll wonder if he’s taking this too fast, diving in too deep. Jimin is young and Yoongi wonders if Jimin is jumping into this too quickly, latching onto Yoongi who is the closest opportunity. 

But then there will be other times when he'll pad into the living room yawning, the sun already high in the sky, and Jimin will there with a bright smile and Yoongi's favorite takeaway and Yoongi will think that maybe this isn't a temporary crush and mayeb it's okay to him to take the next step.

Yoongi leans back in the park bench and stares up at the rapidly greying sky. The weather is taking a turn for the cold and it makes him think of all his accumulating worries. His parents badgering about his future, his grades which hang in the balance, his position as Jimin’s hyung and potentially something more.

His phone beeps.  _Where are you hyung?_

Jimin of course.

Yoongi can’t help the small smile that sneaks up on his face.

 _On my way back_ , he texts and stands, stretching.

Maybe he’s going about it the wrong way. Maybe taking time off of Jimin isn’t the way to go. Maybe all this time the best thing for him is to just be by Jimin's side.  Yoongi’s heart does a little dance as he gives in to his desire and sets off for home and the charming kid waiting there for him who has somehow inexplicably already captured his heart.

*

A week passes quickly and the morning of Jimin’s birthday is filled with hushed whispers and clumsy sneaking about. Jimin rolls over in his bed, stuffing the pillow over his head and tries to get another few hours of sleep, but even that can't block out the noise and eventually he gives up, shuffling out of the bed Yoongi has long vacated (actually did he even come to bed last night?).

He opens the door to a squeak and Seokjin looks like he’s gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar, eyes furiously wide and frozen with one leg half in the air. “Good morning,” he says, clearing his throat quickly and pats Jimin quickly on the head. “Go wash up. Yoongi’s waiting for you in the living room. He wants you for something.”

Jimin properly opens his eyes now. Yoongi wants him? “For what hyung?”

Seokjin gives a quick shrug – too quick to be casual – and pushes Jimin to the bathroom, hands on his shoulders.

Jimin lets him do so, but they find Taehyung and Jungkook deep in conversation there, Taehyung perched on the toilet seat lid, his hands gripping the edge as he leans forwards. Jungkook balances on the edge of the bathtub, head close to Taehyung’s. Their dark hairs mingle and when Jimin opens the bathroom door they both still, shooting instantly guilty looks at him.

Jimin can hear Seokjin’s breath catch behind him and he can imagine Seokjin is staring daggers at the two from behind him. “Out,” he says firmly and the two of them squeeze past Jimin quickly, Taehyung giving Jimin a quick wink as he slips past Jimin’s elbow. Jimin rolls his eyes and promises to watch out for himself because he is pretty sure Kim Taehyung has a plan. And a Kim Taehyung with an agenda is not one Jimin wants to cross.

Seokjin closes the door behind Jimin and he can hear a tirade of scolding from the crack underneath. It’s hard to not want to smile, but they’re all so cute. 

Jimin comes out and Hoseok sleepily wishes him a  _Happy, ah um, morning_ , before his eyes crank wide open and he dashes into the now vacant bathroom to try and gain a semblance of wakefulness.

Namjoon is fast asleep on the couch, lying on his belly, his face tucked into a folded arm, sheets of crumpled paper underneath that. Yoongi sits on the floor, his head right below Namjoon’s dangling hand that threatens to brush the crown of Yoongi’s head. He’s shuffling through some papers, penciling in a notebook furiously.

“Hyung,” Jimin says softly, alerting him because he knows Yoongi hates being caught off guard. Yoongi flicks his head up instantly and the notebook snaps close and the pencil lands onto the coffee table.

“You’re awake,” Yoongi says briskly and gets to his feet. “Breakfast? We’re going out.”

“To where?” Jimin trails after Yoongi into the kitchen, accepting the glass of milk that Yoongi pours and the toast that Yoongi shoves into his mouth.

“Out,” Yoongi just repeats and ushers him back to their bedroom to change.

“For what?” Jimin asks again as Yoongi throws a black tee and jeans at him.

Yoongi frowns. “Stop asking so many questions. You know why.”

Jimin tugs on the shirt and does up the buttons. “So they can get my party ready?”

“Good,” Yoongi says with a click of his tongue as he smoothens down Jimin’s askew hair and props his favorite snapback atop. “At least you’re not as clueless as you always act. Now let’s go out before Seokjin explodes or something.”

Jimin snickers. “That would be a sight to see.”

Yoongi gives him an appraising look that then slips into a smirk of his own. “To see, but not to clean up after. Scooch,” he says with a quick clap of his hands.

They manage to slip out just as Seokjin’s shrieks of  _Kim Namjoon you better get your ass up and moving_ begin and both of them are laughing as they stumble into the pavements.

“So where are we going hyung?” Jimin asks as Yoongi loops an arm around his shoulder, all causal and close.

“Wherever you want Jiminnie,” Yoongi grins. “It’s your birthday.”

Jimin looks over and he can’t help but let his eyes wander to lips, chapped and pale pink with the cold. Yoongi runs a tongue over his lips, wetting it, and Jimin wonders if it was a subconscious reaction or if Yoongi can read his mind.

“Jimin,” Yoongi prompts him and Jimin jumps.

“Um, ah, can we get food?” His voice comes out slightly strangled and Yoongi gives him a raised eyebrow in question. But when Jimin quickly drags Yoongi forwards by the hand, he lets it go, and lets Jimin take charge.

*

Lunch is spent with Jimin trying not to notice how Yoongi is getting sauce all over his lips as he messily eats and tries to explain to Jimin all about the new song he’s experimenting with. Technically it’s all Jimin’s fault for bringing it up because he should’ve known that when Yoongi gets excited all his manners goes out the window and now he’s groaning as he leans over to offer Yoongi tissues.

“What?” Yoongi side glances the tissues and pushes it away.

“Your face hyung,” Jimin says, a touch exasperated and leans over the table to rub at the mess. Yoongi makes a protesting sound at the back of his throat and says something that sounds like  _I’m not a baby._ The movement makes Jimin's hand slide and he ends up spreading the sauce all down Yoongi’s jawline instead.

“Jimin,” Yoongi grumbles and rolls his eyes. He reaches up with one hand and Jimin thinks he’s going to take the tissues off of him, but then Yoongi grabs firmly at Jimin’s wrist instead and guides Jimin’s hand back to his mouth, making him wipe the sauce off properly.

“All gone?” he asks and tilts his head to one side so Jimin can get a good look.

“All gone,” Jimin chokes out and Yoongi finally drops his grip, rubbing the back of his hand over his cheek and scowling when it comes away still with traces of sauce.

“Liar,” he shoots at Jimin and then roughly swipes at the rest with the palm of his hand. He licks his lips several times and then leans forwards so he is super close to Jimin. “Is it gone now?” he asks again and then narrows his eyes. “And no lying this time.”

“Okay there’s a little bit left,” Jimin admits and Yoongi makes a  _I told you so_ face.

“Where?” Yoongi says instead, leaving the taunting gleam in his eyes unspoken for. “Wipe it off for me?”

So Jimin leans forwards and god damn the god of all sauces, why did Yoongi have to have smeared it all over his lips.

“Hurry up,” Yoongi half whines as he reaches out with his chopsticks for more galbi. Jimin swallows a breath and brings his thumb down onto Yoongi’s lips, wiping it away as quickly as he can, and then snatching his hand back.

“Done?” Yoongi prompts and Jimin nods.

“Done.”

“Good,” Yoongi says lightly and shovels another piece of meat in, promptly getting more sauce all over his face.

“Hyung,” Jimin wails and decides he’s giving up on life when Yoongi just blinks and goes, “What?”

*

Yoongi’s next suggestion is that they go shopping and he’ll buy Jimin anything he wants, within reason of course. Jimin doesn’t mind but there’s nothing he particularly wants so they up strolling along aisles and popping in and out of stores.

“How about sunglasses?” Yoongi says as he props a garishly yellow pair on the bridge of Jimin’s nose. Jimin turns to look in the mirror and half has the thought the mirror will break instantaneously because of how hideous that pair of sunglasses looks.

He lifts them and waggles his eyebrows, eyes twinkling with glee and Jimin’s heart does a little fumble at how  _playful_  Yoongi can be sometimes.

“No hyung,” he says firmly and puts it down before dragging Yoongi out of the store.

“How about a new shirt?” Yoongi asks, holding up a black shirt with pink slashes and a printed logo of  **KISS MY SASS**  in white. Jimin nearly chokes on that one, what with the lurid lip prints at the corners and Yoongi holding it against his chest.

“No hyung,” he says and abruptly puts it right back down on the rail, grabbing hold of Yoongi’s wrist and dragging him out at lightning speed before the sales assistant who has just caught sight of them can come over and badger them with more badly sloganed shirts.

Yoongi just laughs and pulls them into another store and Jimin can’t help but groan and complain as they browse the aisles of make-up produces.

“Why did you have to pick the this shop hyung,” Jimin complains as Yoongi picks up a tube of lip stick and proceeds to read out the label.

“Classy and fabulous,” Yoongi drawls and looks up at Jimin. “Wanna feel classy and fabulous on your nineteenth?” he says with a grin, waggling his eyebrows.

“Definitely not hyung,” Jimin says a little uncomfortably as he remembers the last lipstick incident. The rouge tone in Yoongi’s hand looks awfully similar to the color he used last time. “How about we look at the moisturizing section. Your hands have been really dry lately.”

Yoongi raises his eyebrows. “Is that so?” He grabs for the taster jar and scoops out a generous amount, slathering across his palms and the back of his hands.

Jimin feels his cheeks heat. “I’ve been dragging you around all day hyung. Of course I can feel your hands.”

Yoongi smirks. “But it’s your birthday. You should be the one getting stuff. So what do you want Jiminnie?”

Jimin swallows and he can’t help the way his eyes flicker to Yoongi’s hands. It’s reflex. But Yoongi just seems to find it amusing.

“Moisturizer?” he grins and grabs Jimin’s hands. Yoongi’s dumped so much on his own that they are still slippery with unabsorbed cream and Yoongi rubs the excess amount all over Jimin’s hands.

Jimin can feel the blood rush to his face. “Enough hyung,” he mumbles and pulls his hand out of Yoongi’s grasp, rubbing until it all soaks into his skin. “Anyway I don’t need anything. You spending the day with me was good enough.”

Yoongi looks vaguely amused as he pulls them out of the store and into the streets again. “Alright,” he says in a warm little flicker of a voice, like a candle at night. “It’s a bit early to go home just yet, so let’s take the long way home.”

Jimin nods and relishes in the warm touch of Yoongi’s hand, soft now with moisturizer. He lets Yoongi take him by the wrist, and then to home.

*

“How do you like the house?” Yoongi asks, breaking the silence of the darkening afternoon. The streets are relatively empty as the weather takes a turn for chilly and Jimin has his hands tucked in deep into his jean pockets.

Jimin starts a little. “Ah, um, nice. It’s really, really nice, and fun.” He ducks his head a little. “I like it a lot,” he says, voice soft as if in confession.

He feels Yoongi’s arm over the back of his neck, casual and warm. “Good,” Yoongi says and Jimin feels his cheeks flush.

“And school?”

Jimin pauses to think about it. “Okay I guess. I mean it’s cool and all but I’m not that interested in studying.”

“Oh? What are you interested in then?” Yoongi asks without missing a beat.

Jimin has to think about it for a while, and an answer eludes him. It’s not maths or science or literature for sure because sure he can do them but they bore the heck out of him if he stares at it for more than two minutes. It’s not business or finance or economics because that’s what his parents wanted him to do for his future career and it makes Jimin almost want to tear out his own skin at the thought of being chained to a table 9 to 5 every day. So what does he want to do? Music is cool. He’s seen Yoongi and Namjoon scratch away at paper or play with beats on softwares but Jimin’s never been interested enough to want to try and learn all the mechanics of it. And it’s not like he’s an amazing chef like Seokjin who’s thinking of making it a career. He’s not good at everything like Jungkook, or casually bouncing along life like Taehyung, both willing to accept whatever comes their way. So what does Jimin want out of life?

Yoongi asks him a question. “What made you run away from home?”

Jimin halts, an unconscious thing.

Yoongi turns to face him, his eyes shadowed by the strong street lamp light. “You never told me why you ran away. Can you tell me now?”

Jimin’s heart thuds, a heavy bass, as he recalls the memories of two years ago. It had started with his parents ranting on about test scores and attending cram school and Jimin had been so sick to death of it all. Back then all he had wanted to do was-

“Dance,” Jimin whispered, his voice coming out hushed and almost reverent.

Yoongi lets him have a moment to think.

It was dance that Jimin wanted to do back then. There had been a club at school which Jimin had stumbled upon by pure accident. The best accident of sorts. Just like trying to pickpocket Yoongi had been. Jimin had loved dancing, it had been the only moments in his life where he didn’t feel chained to the floor or weighted down by paper and scores.

“You’ve never mentioned wanting to dance before,” Yoongi says, his head tilting and catching the light so that his eyes gleam like an alley cat’s.

And that’s true. Jimin thinks back and dance used to be his one and only love, but maybe somewhere along the way after he ran away and found Namjoon he began to associate dance with his former life, and that with his parents and unrealistic expectations, and slowly he pushed dance further and further back until he forgot all about it completely.

“I-“ he starts, wondering how he can convey it all to Yoongi.

Yoongi just brushes him off. “You can tell me when you’re ready,” he says, grabbing at Jimin’s wrist and tugging him forwards so that they’re walking again. “Just don’t forget it again. Dreams are important, alright?”

There’s a lump in Jimin’s chest as he recalls Yoongi’s skype sessions with his parents and how often they ended in arguments about Yoongi’s career path. And here Yoongi is, worrying about Jimin’s own future. Yoongi putting him at the forefront of his own things. 

“Okay hyung,” Jimin whispers back and when Yoongi lets go, Jimin grabs for his wrist. Yoongi turns, half-amused, but lets Jimin interlace their fingers as they walk back home.

*

When they do get home, Jimin is totally ready for a warm bath and then some nice downtime in the living room with the others. What he gets instead is a face full of cake and party popper explosion that showers him in colored paper and smoke. Jimin coughs as Taehyung yells “Happy Birthday!” in his ear and then rushes off before Jimin can retaliate.

 “Steady there,” Yoongi says in a deeply amused voice as he grabs Jimin’s shoulders to stop him from falling over, his ears ringing and balance compromised.

“I’m going to get him,” Jimin groans in promise as he rubs his sore ears and then when he deems them recovered enough, dashes off into the living room in chase of one Kim Taehyung. Yoongi just shakes his head, kicks off his shoes and closes the door behind them.

In the living room Hoseok is chortling as Jimin mock-strangles Taehyung, having pinned him to the floor and is currently straddling his chest.

“Save me hyung,” Taehyung begs him piteously from the floor and Yoongi rolls his eyes and kicks Jimin in the side. It’s a light hearted thing and Jimin pouts but rolls with the gentle pressure of Yoongi’s socked foot and flops onto the carpet next to Taehyung.

He pulls a face at Yoongi. “Isn’t it supposed to be my birthday,” he whines in what he hopes is a pitiable voice.

Yoongi just snorts. “So?”

Jimin frown deepens and then he notices the socks again. “You’ve still got a hole in your sock hyung,” he points out and Yoongi just wriggles his foot at him. “Ew no! That’s gross hyung,” he squeaks and rolls away to the safety of Seokjin who pats him on the head and places a party hat atop his messy hair, then wipes off the excess cake still smudged into his face.

“Happy birthday Jiminnie,” Seokjin beams.

“Thanks hyung,” Jimin grins back and tugs Seokjin into a big wrestled hug, laughing when Seokjin protests and tries to back away from the smears of cake still on Jimin’s face “You guys are the best. You didn’t have to do this, so thanks.”

“Nonsense,” Seokjin tuts but still wriggles out of Jimin’s grip and away to relative safety behind Namjoon. “It’s your birthday. Of course we had to celebrate it.”

“Present time!” Taehyung roars from the floor shocking absolutely everyone except Jungkook who simply drops a pillow onto his face.

“Cake first,” Jungkook says primly and Jimin rolls into a sitting position just in time to see Seokjin bring in a proper cake, topped with chocolate and candy and his name in icing.

“We baked it while you were out with whatever was in the kitchen so we kind of forgot candles and everything and it’s not perfect but…” Seokjin trails as he places down the cake onto the floor and sure it’s a bit crooked and the writing is messy and overlapped and icing uneven, but Jimin has never  _ever_  gotten such a nice and heartfelt cake in his life before and he can’t help the wrenched sob that comes out of his throat. “Its brilliant hyung, thanks,” he manages before his vision blurs.

“There, there,” Namjoon pats him on the back as he looks thoroughly amused. “Happy birthday you. From Seokjin and I,” he says and drops a squarish package into his lab and –  _no way, it can’t be_   - Jimin scrubs at his eyes and rips open the package and inside is the latest Taehyung album, signed and everything.

“How-“ he stares at them speechlessly.

Namjoon gives a sly grin. “Connections,” is all he says and then he’s moving away and another package lands neatly in his lap, Taehyung too lazy to crawl the two meter distance to hand it to him in person.

“Happy birthday. Here’s to never having to pickpocket again. From me and Kookie,” Jimin rips it open and practically cackles when he sees a chained wallet inside, the kind that loops to your belt buckles.

“That was the only type of wallet I could never steal,” Jungkook sniffs and Jimin wraps an arm around him and tugs him down.

“You’re the best,” he grins and Jungkook leans over him to steal a slice of the cake, ignoring Seokjin’s squawks of protest that Jimin should be the one to slice the cake. But then Yoongi is plopping down onto the floor with a spoon of his own and digging right into the cake.

“This is pretty good,” he comments through a mouthful. “Who baked?”

“Seokjin-hyung and I did,” Jungkook says as he takes the spoon off of Yoongi and steals another bite. Seokjin issues a strangled little noise and twitches.

“Settle down and eat some hyung,” Jungkook says as he pats the spot on the floor next to them. Hoseok pats Seokjin soothingly on the shoulder and drops down with more spoons in his hand. He holds one out to Jimin who takes it, amused, and digs in as well. Seokjin sighs heavily and gives in, sitting down and taking a spoon from Hoseok when offered.

“Oh, this actually is pretty good,” he comments when he takes a bite and everyone bursts out laughing.

“Gimme some!” Taehyung pipes up and does his best to wriggle over on his belly. Jimin takes pity and offers him a spoonful so he doesn’t get carpet burn and Taehyung closes his eyes and practically devours the spoon along with the cake. “More please,” he says and Hoseok laughs and feeds him more.

The evening dissolves into the seven of them just sitting there on the floor eating cake with spoons and laughing till the clock strikes way past midnight. It’s only when Jimin starts yawning, his body’s natural clock kicking in, that Seokjin sends them all to bed. Jimin gathers up his presents, including a new pair of trainers that Hoseok has bought him – I got it cheap off some crew friends, he had said with a wink when Jimin had protested about how expensive they looked – and Jimin can’t wait to try them out in the morning.

He stumbles into their bedroom, Yoongi’s guiding hand warm at the small of his back and he almost trips as he deposits the stuff onto the table and then rolls into bed fully dressed.

Yoongi shakes his head, amused, but allows it. “Since it’s your birthday,” he says and turns off the lights so that the room is only illuminated by the faint glow of Yoongi’s laptop which for some reason is on.

Jimin blinks at it sleepily and wonders why looking at the laptop sends a niggling sensation down his back, but it doesn’t seem to hit home. “Hyung,” he starts and then is cut off mid-yawn.

Yoongi pads over to his computer and starts closing the open tabs. Jimin furrows his brows and tries hard to think what’s wrong with it. And then the last tab. Yoongi’s fingers are hovering over the touch pad and he tilts his head back, eyes gleaming in the half-darkness at Jimin.

“So I never did get you a present after all,” he says softly, slowly, his words slinking around Jimin like a feline stalking its prey. The sleepiness washes away from Jimin and he stares in horror at the open browser search of  _how to seduce a guy to kiss you_  and holy fuck of all fucks.

“Ah-“ he splutters but then the computer is shutting down and the room plunges into darkness. Jimin can hear Yoongi’s footsteps as he pads over to the bed; he feels the mattress sink underneath Yoongi’s weight. Yoongi comes in close. Too close. Jimin’s breath hitches in his throat and his lips part as he tries to find words.

“Happy Birthday Jiminnie,” Yoongi whispers, all smoke and moonlit dust motes and then his lips come down onto Jimin’s, forcing them close. This kiss isn’t as sweet as Jimin has imagined, but neither is it as slick and sliding as that movie moment. It’s a chaste kiss, a hesitant one, like Yoongi’s testing the waters. Jimin’s glad of it because now he knows he wants more, and so when Yoongi pulls back, Jimin chases after him, a whine building at the back of his throat.

 “Again hyung,” he murmurs and Yoongi laughs, low and velvety, but obliges with another kiss, deeper and smoother this time. Jimin leans back against the wall, slowly feeling all the sensation in his limbs seep out, focusing so that the only parts of his body where  he can feel anything are his lips and his mouth and the skin where Yoongi cups a palm around his cheek and angles him into a better position.

“Good?” Yoongi whispers as he pulls off for a moment so that Jimin can catch his breath.

“Yes,” Jimin breathes, a little too quickly and a little too breathlessly and Yoongi laughs again, a sound that Jimin would like to bottle and keep tucked tight against his chest. It’s a wonderful sound, dark and fond and Jimin is so, so glad he tried to pickpocket Yoongi that day back in Hongdae.

“Good,” Yoongi says as he pulls back and drops down to the mattress.  

“What? That’s it?” Jimin half-whines, pawing at Yoongi’s shoulder.

“Yes, it’s late,” Yoongi complains, eyes already closed.

“But I’ve been waiting over a month for this!”

Yoongi opens one eye to shoot Jimin a sharp look. “If you’d asked properly this would have happened a lot faster. Couldn’t you have asked for a kiss the normal way?” 

Jimin wriggles under his acute gaze. “I asked you that night we moved in, but the next morning you didn’t do anything.”  

A look of amusement spreads across Yoongi’s face. “Jimin you think I remember everything I promise? Next time just ask me again, okay? Step 5, make the first move,” he quips and Jimin feels his cheeks heat.

“Hyung!” he splutters. “Anyway, this was a kiss! How could you forget something that important?”

“It was three in the morning. How could you expect me to remember anything important?” Yoongi deadpans, one brow raised.

Jimin pouts and gives up, slouching down onto the mattress. “Well, fine,” he says but his bottom lip is jutting out of its own volition and he doesn’t want to seem needy when Yoongi is so casual and suave about this whole kissing thing, but then Yoongi rolls over, his nose brushing against Jimin's.

“Don’t be scared about talking to me,” Yoongi says, his face up close and his warm breath hitting Jimin’s cheek. “I’ll always listen to you, okay?” He has Jimin caught with his gaze and Jimin can’t help but nod dumbly, silence stealing away his words.

“Good,” Yoongi says and a grin unfolds on his face. “Now sleep.”

He wraps one arm behind Jimin’s neck and tugs him down.

“Really? No more kisses?” Jimin says sadly and paws and Yoongi’s shoulder.

“Nope,” Yoongi grounds and bats his hand away. “I’m old. Let your elders rest.”  

“But you said you’d listen to whatever I wanted right?” Jimin prods him again.

Yoongi cracks open one eye. “I said I’d listen, not do everything you want. Now sleep.”

“But hyuuung,” Jimin wheedles, feeling seriously cheated. “It’s my birthday.”

“Correction. It was your birthday four hours ago.”

“Fine, then it’s my birthday plus one,” Jimin says, not one to back down.

“Seriously?” Yoongi huffs. “Are we doing this?”

Jimin nods and Yoongi grounds out a sigh.

“Why did I have to go and fall for such a baby,” he growls and a protest bubbles out of Jimin’s mouth that  _he’s not a kid!_  but then Yoongi is rolling over and above Jimin and kissing the protests gone. This kiss is harder and heavier and Yoongi presses Jimin down into the mattress until pleasure courses throughout Jimin’s veins, light and bubbly like champagne.

“Enough?” Yoongi asks as he pulls off. Jimin shakes his head and tugs Yoongi down again for another lazy, slanted kiss. “No? Don’t be greedy,” Yoongi says with a shake of his head and flops down onto the bed, ignoring Jimin’s tiny protesting sounds. “We can do this in the morning,” Yoongi says as he yawns and Jimin feels slightly guilty but he’s never felt this happy – this light – before and he doesn’t ever want to the balloon to pop.

“One more?” he tries and Yoongi growls, but rolls over and nudges his cheek and gives him a kiss there. And oh. That wasn’t what Jimin was expecting but…

“We have tomorrow,” Yoongi says sleepily as he rolls back down and pulls the comforter up and over them. “And the day after that and the day after that day and…” he pushes his nose into Jimin’s cheek and promptly falls asleep.

Jimin turns his head so that he can watch a sleeping Yoongi. In the throes of sleep Yoongi’s face softens, his mouth that is red and slick sheened parted gently and his eyes which are finally relaxed. Jimin’s heart is still thumping at about a hundred miles per minute and he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to fall asleep.

Jimin leans over to steal one last kiss.  

“Thanks hyung,” he whispers. “That was the best birthday present ever.”

Yoongi shifts in his sleep and his lips quirk up into a tiny smile as if he can hear Jimin. A stupid smile spreads over Jimin’s face as well and he wriggles until he’s comfortable under the sheets and his body is curled around Yoongi.

*

In the morning the sheets are empty and Yoongi is gone.

Jimin rolls out, half disappointed, but its half past noon to be fair. He finds Yoongi in the kitchen eating cereal with his laptop open next to him.

“Hey there,” he says as Jimin slumps down into the chair next to him. Yoongi runs his free hand through Jimin’s hair at the simple touch. Jimin sits down and helps himself to Yoongi’s cereal. He’s crunching through a quarter of it before he realizes there’s no one else in the house.

“They all went to bed early, unlike us,” Yoongi snorts and takes another mouthful. “Now here, look at this.”

Jimin leans over so he can read what’s on the laptop screen. He tries not to blush when he sees the open tab titled  _how to seduce_ \- and tries to focus on the open page instead.

DANCE CLASSES, 2-6PM, LOCATION: HONGDAE, PLEASE CONTACT FOR FURTHER DETAILS.

Jimin looks to Yoongi, blinking in confusion.

“Last night you said dance, right?” Yoongi supplies and Jimin nods along dumbly. Maybe it’s too early in the morning – afternoon (gods is he turning into a Yoongi?!) – for him to properly comprehend, and Yoongi just sighs and spells it all out for him. “You want to dance right? So go. This place does lessons. And if you’re good enough you can join the crew. There’s a blog and everything on the website.”

Jimin’s mouth falls open. “But the costs-“

Yoongi waves him off. “It’s my birthday present to you,” he says amicably and spoon feeds Jimin more cereal. “Plus Hoseok works there, so we can get discounts.”

Jimin swallows and tries to protest. “But then what were those kisses last night?”

“Oh those?” Yoongi pauses to think. “You thought it was your birthday present?” he snickers. “That was your boyfriend-induction-101.”

“Oh,” Jimin sits back and tries not to grin at the way Yoongi is calling him his  _boyfriend._

“That and I wanted to tease you for trying to seduce a kiss out of me this past week. Kids these days,” Yoongi says with a shake of his head.

“Wait, what? Hyung! You knew?” Jimin splutters.

Yoongi’s eyes crease with amusement. “Knew about your blatantly obvious attempts? I’d have to be a blind monkey with my head in the sand to  _not_  notice.”

“Hyung,” Jimin wails despairingly as he suddenly makes the connection of yesterdays’ events. The sunglasses store, the make-up aisle, the touching and the food all over Yoongi’s mouth. He’s been completely played. “And you let me continue anyway? When did you realize?”

“I don’t know,” Yoongi shrugs, not looking the least bit bothered at Jimin’s distress. “I mean you told me a month ago you wanted a kiss, so I guess I just saw the signs and-“

“Wait? So you remember me asking you for a kiss?!” Jimin screeches. 

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “It may have been three in the morning but it was a rather important little request.”

“And so you waited a month before you did anything?!” Jimin yelps, affronted.

Yoongi pauses, and he looks slightly embarrassed. Jimin leans forwards, curious. “Well,” he coughs to clear his throat. “I mean a kiss is a big deal. And you’re young and you haven’t kissed anyone before. And I, I wasn’t sure if I was right to take that from you and-“

Jimin swoops forwards and plants a kiss on Yoongi’s cheek. “You’re the best, hyung,” he grins, cheeks hurting as he pulls back and the smile widens as he sees how red Yoongi’s cheeks have gotten.

“Alright, enough enough,” Yoongi coughs and shoves his laptop over to Jimin. “So the dance classes?” he says.

“Yes?” Jimin beams back.

“You want them?”

Jimin doesn’t even need to think before he responds. “Absolutely.”

Yoongi’s face softens into a smile and he leans over, one hand ruffling Jimin’s head. “Good.”

*

Jimin’s career as a thief isn’t just over yet though.

His days may be spent alternating between school and dance classes and the crew which he’s been accepted into, but his nights and the times in between when he and Yoongi are in the same room are filled with sneaky kisses and stolen moments.

Some recent moments.

The two of them in the bathroom, early morning, Jimin getting ready for school, Yoongi for a 9am lecture. Jimin leans over to press a quick kiss to Yoongi’s cheek and he gets a growl in return when Yoongi has to swipe away at the toothpaste imprinted there. However Seokjin’s then hammering on the door for them to hurry up and Jimin skips out before he can do anything more, Yoongi glowering after him.

Another time when they’re in the living room eating and Jimin looks over, catching Yoongi’s eye and his licks his lips like they do in the (relatively less NC17) movies and Yoongi will swallow quickly. Later Jimin will pay when Yoongi refuses to indulge him in kisses and Jimin will trail after him throughout the house whining until Yoongi gives him and kisses him to shut him up.

Their relationship isn’t probably the most conventional of ones, but Jimin likes it, and if this is going to be the rest of his life, stealing and being stolen from, then Jimin has no qualms about being a thief.

*

“One more kiss hyung?” he’ll ask with a hopeful gleam in his eyes when Yoongi comes home late one night with cold lips and cold cheeks.

“You’ll have to work for it,” Yoongi will say with a tiny smirk tugging at the edge of his lips. Jimin will slide over and kiss it away.

“I’ll work super hard hyung,” he’ll whisper into the skin there, warming it up with his breath and lips and words. “I promise.”

Yoongi will thread his fingers into Jimin’s hair and kiss him back hard, as if doing so will make it real. “You better,” he’ll half growl right back and Jimin will laugh and agree.

“Okay.”

“Okay what?”

“Okay hyung.”

“Better.”

“Now can I have another kiss hyung?”

“Brat.”

But he’ll kiss Jimin anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I think I'll put the end here for now.  
> To everyone who's stuck through it all, thanks for reading :)


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